


Meetings Gone Wrong

by Banshee891



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Horror, Suspense, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banshee891/pseuds/Banshee891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if a certain Substitute Shinigami lost control of his temperamental hollow in the middle of a captain’s meeting? Let’s see how this all plays out as Ichigo’s hollow gives a demonstration to the Seireitei captains of exactly how powerful he really is. No pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

_“The only summit meeting that can succeed is the one that does not take place.” –Barry Goldwater_

X-X-X-X-X

_ Research and Development Department _

A harsh beeping from a large machine abruptly arose, echoing throughout the wide room with its repeating tone. The source of the disturbance was a small red dot flashing evenly across the luminescent monitor. The individual working at this particular station quickly took notice and swiveled his chair to observe the cause.

After mere seconds of scrutiny, the scientist - dressed in a pristine white lab coat covering his black robes and adorning thick spectacles - beckoned his superior, Akon, to his location. Once the experienced man arrived at his college’s side, he questioned the reasoning for this summons which was promptly answered.

“Sir, our scanners have detected a high hollow reiatsu of an unusual caliber in this sector,” he motioned to the red area pulsing on the screen, “And this isn’t the first time that this signature has appeared in this area either.” The analyst returned to his monitor and began typing on the keyboard at a rapid pace before a data sheet printed out from below.

“According to our data, there have been four previous appearances of this exact hollow reiatsu near this approximate location throughout the past week. But, the strange thing is that each time after it appears it quickly vanishes without leaving a trace.” To emphasize his statement, the blinking dot and consistent beeping faded, leaving the lab in a lulling hush.

Akon cupped his chin in the palm of his hand while in thought, “Where is this appearing most frequently?”

“Karakura Town, sector four.”

“What residential or on duty Shinigami are scheduled there at this time?”

The scientist took a couple seconds to briskly type once again on his broad keyboard, “None are there at the moment, but the Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, lives there according to our records.”  
“What is the best way to establish a line of communication with Kurosaki?”

“Nothing as far as we are aware,” the observer stated, “Except through indirect methods of other Shinigami that were present.”

“Alright,” Akon sighed and rubbed the area to the side of his protruding horns, “We need information from him on this situation as soon as possible. Send a message to Kurosaki via Hell Butterfly requesting his presence with a brief explanation. It will be easier and more efficient if he came to Soul Society in person to discuss this case.”

“Right away, sir! Where would you like him to report? Since he is only a Representative and not a registered Shinigami, it would make the standard procedure more complicated.”

“Have him first gain clearance with Yamamoto-Soutaichou. After, he can come here,” Akon ordered, attempting to prevent an oncoming headache as he rubbed his temples.

“Yes sir!”

X-X-X-X-X

_ The Next Day _

The captains formed two parallel lines in the voluminous meeting hall. Yamamoto, wooden staff in hand, resided in the back of the room, silently observing the routine checks regarding recent activity of each division and information concerning the continuing war. Hitsugaya had stepped forward, just about to begin his report when the penetrating sound of loud yelling outside the main doors gathered everyone’s attention.

“You are not authorized to go in there! A meeting is in progress and you cannot disrupt it!” the muffled voice of one of the guards wildly screeched.

“Like I give a damn,” another very recognizable voice bluntly declared.

“N-no! You can’t just–”

The extravagant wooden doors were forcefully kicked open and a familiar orange-headed teen walked in, harboring no care for how disruptive his actions were. The guard was still frantically struggling to pull the Substitute back by his arm in a fruitless effort wielding no success.

“Oi, I was told to come talk with you, ojiisan,” Ichigo said in a nonchalant manner.

The Soutaichou paused momentarily before he answered the youth, “Indeed, I recall a notice that you would be arriving. Although,” his features and tone hardened considerably at this point, “You , _should_ have waited until the appropriate time, impudent child.”

“Whatever. I just want to get through this as quick as possible. I have a history test tomorrow that I need to study for.”

“Why you insolent…” Soi Fon started, extremely irate at the attitude being displayed towards her superior.

“Very well,” Yamamoto pronounced, dismissing the guard with a short nod of his head who closed the doors behind him in reluctance, “This should not take long I presume. What is your reasoning for being here, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo shrugged half-heartedly, “Hell, I’m not really sure. All I was told was that some guys from the research place wanted to talk to me about hollow activities in Karakura.”

“Are you aware of how long this discussion will take?” Yamamoto questioned with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

“I don’t think it should take too long from what they’ve told me.” Ichigo flinched briefly after saying this, clenching his fists with a wince. He quickly relaxed, only displaying minute signs of discomfort. The captains silently took notice of this occurrence, but none commented.

The head captain nodded transiently in understanding, “If that is all, then you may continue with this meeting.”

“Thanks, ojiisan.”

The young Shinigami began to turn around towards the exit, when he suddenly stopped; frozen for a mere second in suspended animation. A sharp, agonizing pain assaulted his body originating from his head, causing him to cripple to the floor on his side with a yelp. His hands shot up, grabbing large sections of his orange hair as his head felt like it would split in two. His entire body shook from the pain, becoming so unbearable that he screamed out in agony.

Some captains retreated a step backwards in surprise at the unexpected outburst. The rest cautiously tried to make their way to the suffering youth’s side to attempt to help him in any way possible. Yamamoto’s grip on his cane tightened, body posture tensing as he observed what was transpiring before him. This unexplained event was becoming increasingly more suspicious coupling the fact that his reiatsu was rapidly changing from a Shinigami’s to a hollow’s, drawing everyone’s notice.

Abruptly, the screaming ceased, instead rapidly replaced with a bone-chilling laughter echoing in a double voice.

With quick, unnaturally smooth movements, Ichigo pushed off the floor and flipped in mid-air, alarming many that were approaching him. He landed near the enormous doors, head bowed so that his hair obscured his eyes from view. As he slowly raised his head, the golden irises swimming in endless black pools paired with a partial white-masked face were exposed for all to see, eliciting many startled gasps.

Without warning, the being emitting pure hollow reiatsu swung the six-foot sword from his back and attacked the person nearest to him; the sickly Ukitake.

The ailing captain hastily drew his zanpakuto from its scabbard, blocking the powerful strike that was aimed to slice through his neck. Ukitake was pushed back and thrown with astonishing strength into a nearby wall. Kyoraku, who was coming to his friend’s aid, only managed to get in the way, being taken out in the process.

The hollow or thing that was clearly not Ichigo was besieged from the side by the insanely gleeful Kenpachi. Expertly maneuvering his sword, the hollow intercepted the oncoming strike, adorning the same maniacal grin as his attacker.

Both combats steadily held each other at bay, sparks jumping from their weapons. The possessed teen released a ghastly laugh resounding off the enclosed walls and leapt straight into the air, avoiding Soi Fon’s released zanpakuto aimed at his back. With a twist, the demon landed beside Byakuya.

Due to the relatively small space of the room compared to that of a battle field, the fighting capacities were severely limited, especially Byakuya’s ability to release his zanpakuto into its more expansive state without endangering all around him in the process. He was thusly forced to use his sword while sealed to fight off the beast before him.

The hollow drew his sword back, obsidian energy coating its surface in a thick blanket, and released an incredibly fast Getsuga Tenshou. The attack surged towards Byakuya rapidly, allowing no chance to evade or block as it crashed into his chest with full force. He was sent flying, sliding down the wall limply with an appalling burn decorating the impacting site seeping blood.

Now keenly aware of the menacing threat this foe presented, the remaining captains silently resolved to fight cooperatively instead of individually. As one they attacked, attempting to defeat the beast through the power of numbers. The monster simply offered a feral grin at their foolish actions.

The hollow dodged each strike, slash, and thrust directed at him, weaving between attacks with graceful ease, returning many of them with his own. Then, three separate blades descended on the demon’s form with no foreseeable escape. He disappeared in a flash, the blades contacting only with each other and empty space. Seconds later he reappeared on the adjacent side of the room, lifting his sword that was prepared to release a massive Getsuga at the group.

At this moment, Yamamoto decided that enough was finally enough.

The Soutaichou’s heavy reiatsu descended upon the room’s occupants like a thousand pound weight, causing them to immediately stop, straining to stand. However, the hollow showed absolutely no sign of exertion. The only action that he took was the lowering of his oversized blade gradually as he leveled a scrutinizing glare towards the elderly man in acute irritation.

**“Ya know,”** he said, venom dripping from his words, **“Yer ruinin’ all the fun.”**

Yamamoto’s response was silence accompanied with a piercing scowl.

The hollow gave off a low, animalistic snarl before jerking his stare to the wooden floor at his feet. His twisted features scrunched up in thought, porcelain mask continuing to crawl across his face.

**“Che, looks like my time’s up.”**

As the words left his mouth, Kyoraku emerged from the shadows and stabbed the hollow directly below the sternum straight through until his sword emerged from the back. The demon sputtered a final, dark chuckle before his mask cracked, shattering into pieces and falling onto the floor boards below with resounding thunks. His eyes quickly drained of the inky onyx, reverted back to the original soft brown and white.

Ichigo’s sword slipped from his limp grip and clattered loudly when it hit the ground below. Blood ran down his chin as he weakly coughed, steadily dripping off his chin. He looked down in confusion when he realized the pain in his stomach while one shaking hand found the steed blade imbedded firmly in his abdomen. In an instant, his eyes rolled back as his body fell forward until hitting the guard.

Seeing his opponent in such a state, Kyoraku removed his zanpakuto from the teen. The orange-haired substitute dropped to the floor in a lifeless heap, blood steadily pooling around his form.

Seconds elapsed, gradually turning to minutes without a single soul making a move. Finally, Unohana broke the tempestuous atmosphere and rushed to the boy’s side, immediately examining his internal and external injuries. She discovered major damage to the diaphragm, causing Ichigo impaired, labored breathing. Many internal organs were also excessively wounded producing severe internal bleeding.

“Soutaichou,” she began softly, “Kurosaki-san requires urgent medical attention or else he will die. Please allow me to take his to my division so that I may treat him.”

“You may do so,” Yamamoto affirmed, “But I want regular updates on his progress and notice of when he awakens. Interrogations are in order to address the events that have transpired.” Withheld anger drowned his tone.

“Yes sir,” Unohana replied and gingerly lifted Ichigo into her arms. Fourth division officers flooded inside the room, examining all captains, injured or otherwise, as Unohana retreated to her medical bay. Everyone was left in stiff confusion, unable to comprehend anything that had only just occurred. Although, the truth may not be something many would truly wish to know.

X-X-X-X-X

Slowly opening his eyes, Ichigo returned to the conscious realm. He was first firmly greeted by an excruciating headache shadowed by a draining weakness. His surroundings started to come into focus and he found himself in a hospital room. Multiple varieties of machines adorned the otherwise barren, white room, creating a myriad amount of odd noises. Of these devices, he was attached to more than half, including an IV inserted in the crook of his arm connected to a pair of bags. One had the red coloration of blood and the other clear simple fluids. He moved one hand towards the IV in order to remove it, deeming it unnecessary in his mind, but a shockingly unnerving voice halted his actions.

“If you don’t want to lose consciousness again, then I would suggest you keep that in,” Unohana warned.

Ichigo slowly moved his hand away from the tubing, terror draining his face of color, “Y… yeah, okay.”

The healer made her way to her patient’s bedside, all signs of malice vanishing from her features in an instant, “How are you feeling, Kurosaki-san,” she questioned while checking the machines.

“Like crap,” he responded honestly. He felt exhausted and sore for no explainable cause that he could conjure.

“That is to be expected considering you lost nearly three pints of blood before my team and I were able to stop the bleeding. You also required emergency surgery in order to repair you lacerated diaphragm that impeded your ability to properly breathe. Sections of your liver and stomach also received severe incisions that needed extensive reconstructive surgery and numerous stitches. It is quite surprising that you seem to be recovering so rapidly seeing that you received all these wounds yesterday.”

Ichigo stared in blatant shock at this news. He would have never fathomed events of this proportion had occurred, although he knew why. His psychotic hollow had broken out of the mental prison he had forced him into again, going on a spree of violent destruction. These outbreaks had been relapsing far too frequently the past week, meaning that Ichigo would be forced to once more control and contain the hollow lest he lose himself completely to the enraged beast within.

“All your vitals look stable and medication levels steady. I’ll leave for now so that you can rest,” Unohana said and turned towards the only door present, “If you need anything, just push the button by your side.” With that, she quietly shut the door behind her, leaving the room in relative silence.

Ichigo laid unmoving on the stiff bed starring at the bleached ceiling with a morbid expression. How could he have allowed the vivacious hollow to have his way? Was he not strong enough to keep him under control, or was he bound to be suppressed by his personal demon because of his weakness?

He released a shallow sigh, instantly cringing from the pain that miniscule action created. The orange-haired teen finally gave in to his fatigue and let his tired eyes close to sleep as Unohana recommended, but he found this action nigh impossible. His hollow was very enthusiastic when it came to mentally torturing him with sick, dark thoughts and images nearly all hours of the day and night.

To spite him, an echoing laughter reverberated through his skull. He screwed his eyes together tightly and placed his shaking hands over his ears to vainly try to block the unrestrained laughter out.

_‘Shut up.’_


	2. The Sentence

_“Mere factual innocence is no reason not to carry out a death sentence properly reached.” –Antonin Scalia_

X-X-X-X-X

The dim, ominous lighting of the vast, octagonal chamber partially exposed the two rows of seats directed towards the center of the room. Each seat was evenly spaced from one another, adoring nearly identical rectangular plagues decorated with different incremental numbers placed in front of the chairs. Each individual that was settled behind these veils were masked from the view of all below, hiding their identities for their own protection. Among these seats, nearly half were vacant; void of any presence, leaving absent holes between those that were present. Those that were in their proper place sat stiffly, not moving a single muscle as they watched the being standing before them silently.

The resounding voice of one of the judges boomed through the room, “Yamamoto-Soutaichou.” A slight pause before he continued, “You are present to discuss the recent events that have transpired two days ago concerning the Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, actions.”

Another silence passed in which subtle murmuring arose from a few of the men present. A different judge then took over at this point from where the other ended, “The aggressive actions displayed during that time have proved this boy’s capability to be a substantial threat to the Gotei and the entire Soul Society. He must be dealt with accordingly or further destruction by his hands will undoubtedly ensue.”

“Agreed,” said an anonymous member, “Our reports have also discovered that the substitute had multiple characteristics of a hollow, or, more specifically, a vizard.”

“His kind shouldn’t exist!” one yelled in fury.

“He needs to be executed!”

“No, that will not solve our problems. We cannot take that course of punishment with this case,” a stern voice commanded the assembly. Many agitated outbursts came forth from this statement.

“Why can we not get rid of this abomination while we have the chance?”

“Because,” the same stern voice proclaimed, “He is still a human.”

An abrupt silence followed this revelation. What the member said was the truth. They had no authority or ability to kill a human, whether they had Shinigami, hollow or both kinds of powers. They would need to conjure a different decree for this particular situation that did not interfere with the laws already set in place. Somehow, the laws restricting them would have to be worked around in order to solve this problem appropriately so that it would not become an issue in the future.

“Since it is clear that the execution of this human will not be a plausible scenario, I suggest that we place him under some type of restrictive environment in which he can be carefully observed while not being able to cause harm or destruction,” a meticulously slow voice wisely suggested.

“What type of environment?” another questioned in scrutiny.

“The Muken is an option.”

“Only prisoners that have committed irrefutable crimes are sentenced to that prison,” a grated voice declared, “When considering all that Kurosaki has done for the Soul Society with considering his most recent actions, that seems far too extreme.”

A man furiously yelled out, “None of that matters! We are discussing what he has done now, not from before.”

“But, this substitute has assisted us on multiple occasions. This should be taken into consideration _despite_ what others may believe.”

“I may be able to present a solution,” one bluntly stated, “Give the abomination to Kurotsuchi-taichou.” Murmurs once again broke out amongst the members. “The cells in the twelfth division department are enforced with sekki-sekki rock and kido, so the accused would not be able to escape.”

“Is this truly a good choice of action?” a low baritone announced, “There is the possibility that Kurotsuchi-taichou could dispose of his prisoner unintentionally.”

“What other choice do we have?” one intoned irritably.

“If we let the monster go free or proceed with a different route, then he would be a danger to all residing in the Seireitei. He cannot be allowed to do as he pleases.”

“The subject was able to critically wound over three of the Gotei’s captains in a matter of minutes before he was stopped. And, that was all without using his bankai that our reports detail to be exceedingly formidable. There is no other choice than to give him to the hands of the twelfth division,” said a man with a stern, agitated tone of finality.

Another silence followed, disrupted only by the whispers of a select few. All others were quietly mulling over the facts presented to them. May valid points had been made on both sides of the debated topic. It would go against the laws to kill Ichigo off and it would be far too dangerous to simply let him go. Therefore, the previous solution offered seemed like the only logical choice in this situation.

“It is decided,” one of the six judges declared, “The Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, is hereby condemned to the fate of being imprisoned in the twelfth division. Kurotsuchi can do with him as he sees fit with the exception of keeping the prisoner alive.”

The attention was once again directed towards the bearded entity in the center of the room. “Yamamoto-Soutaichou,” the same judge pronounced, “You are to carry out these orders and inform Kurosaki that his crimes of attacking multiple captains of the Seireitei, possessing hollow powers and posing a great threat towards the peace of the Soul Society have condemned him to his declared fate. Have him transported immediately to this new location.”

“It will be done,” Yamamoto agreed, inclining his head slightly to show his respect. He promptly took his leave after, making his way towards the exit slowly on his way to deliver the sentence Central forty-six had decided on.

X-X-X-X-X

The forth division captain sat at her desk, studying the papers in her hand, going over the information displayed in the carefully scribed ink. It detailed an officer from the eleventh who had been admitted into her care because of a severe head wound received from a brawl. He was currently experiencing slight memory loss and amnesia from the blow and Unohana was currently constructing a rough plan of action in her head on how to proceed with his treatment. However, she was interrupted from her reusing when a member of the Onmitsukido appeared kneeling to her left.

“Unohana-taichou,” he started, head lowered, “I have urgent orders from Yamamoto-Soutaichou about Central forty-six’s ruling.”

She cautiously set her documents down onto the hard oak desk and looked at the man cloaked in black with a skeptical gaze. “Proceed.”

He gave a brief nod before continuing, “Kurosaki Ichigo is to be immediately transferred into Kurotsuchi-taichou’s care from this moment on.”

_“What?!”_ she yelled in shock, “Why would he need to be moved? They should know that he is in no condition to move with his current condition.” Her anger was rising fast and she fought to keep it under control and maintain her composer.

“Yes, he current situation has been realized, but his transfer takes precedence. The twelfth division has the equipment necessary and ready for his arrival.” With that said, the Onmitsukido member shunpoed out of the room, leaving Retsu alone as she was before his arrival.

_‘What could lead Central forty-six to come to such a conclusion?’_ she questioned, thoroughly confused at their final sentence for the boy. After all that he had done for them already, all the times he had saved both this realm and his own by his actions. How could they not give him a chance to even explain the reasons for why he behaved in such an aggressive, uncharacteristic manner before condemning him to such a fate?

Unohana leaned forward on her hands, covering her eyes with her finger and elbows resting heavily on the wood. This information brought a sudden change to how she thought the events would transpire. Of course she had expected nothing good to come from it, but this… it was maddening. There was no telling what kind of horrible, gruesome experiments Mayuri would conduct upon him because of his situation as a vizard. It was practically common knowledge that Kurotsuchi had been itching to get his hands on one since Shinji and the others had been transformed and banished. The mere thought of what he would do sent small shivers down Retsu’s spine.

She could not let Ichigo suffer this fate… Could she?

No. There must be something she could do to help persuade the Central forty-six to change their minds; make them see reason. That may work if she were to tell them how–

_‘Wait. Slow down Retsu. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Once they have made a decision, they never change it. Never,’_ she thought sullenly. After another minute of silent contemplation, the head healer rose from her seat and into the busying hallway filled with forth division officers rushing about. She quickly located Isane among the crowd and called her to her side. Informing her on the recent news, they both made their way towards the orange-headed teen’s room.

“Isane,” Unohana started, “Please gather three seated officers and meet me at Kurosaki-san’s room. I have a suspicion that this will not be easy.”

“Hai!” Kotetsu said quickly and changed directed to another part of the medical ward.

Doors past by on Unohana’s left and right as she continued down the hall. Finally, she reached the room marked 107 in simple, black numbers and she stood stalk before it, preparing to deliver the sentence that would ultimately change the youth’s life forever. At last, she took a deep breath, placed the familiar smile on her face and opened the doors swiftly.

Ichigo lay still on the white bed, blankly starring up at the ceiling in nearly the exact position Unohana had left him in the day previous. His fingers absently played with the hem of the blanket lying low on his chest, the slightly bloody bandages peeking past. A glaze covered his eyes, signifying how deep in thought he was currently. Thinking about what, she could only guess, although she had a pretty good idea.

The repetitive beeping of the machines next to his nearly motionless body created an eerie atmosphere, in synch with his slow, steady breathing. He actually looked somewhat peaceful in this position despite his stature. She did not want to ruin this, but she had to regrettably.

She made her way to Ichigo’s bedside silently, taking not of how he had made no move to acknowledge her presence. He merely continued to star at the plastered ceiling. Finally, Unohana cleared her throat, “Kurosaki-san?”

The orangette jumped in surprise, eyes immediately coming into focus. He gave a slight hiss in pain when the wound on his abdomen stung sharply, quickly dying down to a dull throb. He looked at Unohana hazily before he was finally able to recognize her features.

“Oh, hi,” he lamely stated.

“Good evening, Kurosaki-san,” she replied courtestly, “I have something important to discuss with you.”

“Alight, shoot.” He directed his full attention to her.

The captain took another deep breath before she continued. “Central forty-six have discussed your actions and decided upon the proper course to take in this case.”

Ichigo paused briefly before he answered, “They have?” he said with minor hesitance, “Wait, I thought Aizen killed all the members there?”

“He did,” Unohana said with a hint of sadness, “But, since that point, we have been slowly reassembling new members to fill the spots of those who have passed. Only about half of the positions have been filled so far.”

“Huh, make sense. So what did they decide upon?”

Unohana did not immediately respond when he asked this, and that lone fact caused Ichigo to develop a deep sense of dread. His stomach felt like it was being frozen in liquid ice and a heavy ball of lead settled in his chest. It grasped at his heart with its cold fingers, ensnaring it with its vice-like grip. “Unohana-san?” he questioned with unconcealed dread.

“You are to be moved to Kurotsuchi-taichou’s care and facility effective immediately."

The ball dropped. He could not believe it. He refused. This was not - _could_ not - be happening.

“Wh-what do you mean… N-no. You can’t send me to that insane nut-head! He’d _kill_ me!” Ichigo practically screamed in protest.

Retsu’s head and eyes dropped in sympathy, “I’m sorry, but that is what has been declared. I must comply with my orders and transfer you.”

“I won’t go!” Each word was pronounced with terrified ferocity. He turned away from her and forcefully ripped the IV out of his arm.

At this moment, Isane fallowed by three other officers rushed into the room. Their appearance only frazzled Ichigo more and he hastily tried to scramble out of the bed and the ensnaring sheets. However, at Unohana’s command, his arms and legs were restrained quickly before he had the chance to get very far.

“Damn it! Let me go!” he yelled on the verge of hysteria. His struggles continued as the healers strapped him down with thick leathers straps.

Then, a sudden thick, heavy reiatsu fell upon the room that caused the lower Shinigami to fall to the floor from the powerful pressure.

From this occurrence, only Unohana was able to notice a distinct, drastic change in Ichigo’s behavior besides this uncalled for outburst. The instant the reiatsu descended on the room, his thrashing movements stopped abruptly. He starred ahead with a frozen look of fear etched onto his face, his eyes losing all focus. Looking closely as the youth’s power increased, she saw small trendles of black crawling across his left eye. The iris was also rapidly changing from the chocolate brown to a piercing yellow. The exact same color she witnessed starring predatorily at her fellow captains only two nights ago.

“Isane, administer a sedative _now!”_ she ordered with the slightest hint of panic. Her lieutenant immediately sprang at the command without a word. She grabbed a syringe already filled to the correct amount for just such an occasion and forcefully plunged the needle into the substitute’s upper arm, pushing the vial’s contents into his flesh directly after.

Mere seconds later, the unyielding pressure finally started to let up, allowing those that fell to the floor to pick themselves back up, albeit quite frazzled from the whole short ordeal. Ichigo had gone completely limp on the bed, head lolling to one side with his eyes half-lidded and blank.

_‘Even with that much sedative in his system, he still has the strength and will to stay awake,’_ Unohana thought with solemnity.

Everything was fuzzy in Ichigo’s vision, his limbs feeling like impossibly heavy weights were tied to them, restricting him from moving without extreme effort. He felt like he was looking through muddy water. His surroundings were blurred and he could not focus on anything, no matter how hard he tried. Vaguely, he could hear muddled sounds of people talking, but the slurred noises were incomprehensible to his cotton-filled ears.

Something touched his arms and chest and he felt himself being moved forward. Nausea jumped on him unexpectedly, causing him to force the bile that began to rise up in his throat down.

The only good thing about this situation was that whatever they had injected him with had caused his hollow to back off. For the moment at least. Any relief was welcomed though in his condition.

The medical officers had successfully moved Ichigo’s limp body into a wheelchair and attached the IV bags to the hooks located on the poll attached to the back. He was a truly pathetic sight. The powerful substitute that had on numerous occasions saved the Soul Society from utter annihilation reduced to a weak husk of the man people saw him as, unable to even speak coherently if he wanted to right now.

It pained the kind-hearted captain to look at him in such a state

. Once they had him settled, they began to wheel him out of the room, towards the dreaded facility he was condemned to; where his will would be eradicated.

X-X-X-X-X

The metal doors opened to reveal a dark, extensive laboratory with beakers filled with unidentifiable substances on nearly every counter. Multiple wires littered the ground, forming a colorful maze that’s cords would ensnare those who were not familiar with its patterns or careful enough, causing Unohana and those assisting her to tip-toe around in order to avoid tripped. The wheels of the chair rolled over them with ease, its occupant completely unconscious now.

The small group entered another door smaller than the last once they reached the other side of the room. A stale, grungy smell hit their nostrils and numerous low, grating moans filled their ears. Occasional screams and inhuman yells punctured the air, making some in the group jump in fright.

It was never a pleasant experience for any soul to travel through Mayuri’s prison cells that housed his experiments.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” a Shinigami in a white lab coat said from the side by the bars of a cell, “We’ve been expecting you eagerly all day!” This man sounded far too gleeful for his or any other person’s good.

“If you would allow, I will be most obliged to escort you to the location in which we have prepared for this specimen. Unohana-taichou, you may come with me. The others are unnecessary,” he stated bluntly, looking at Ichigo hungrily.

With some hesitance, the others took their leave, leaving Unohana to follow the sketchy man before her alone. She gently pushed her soon to be former patient along, his head swaying from site to site limply.

They continued to walk at a relatively brisk pace. Occasionally, when passing an occupied cell, someone – or, in most cases, _something_ – would grab at the bars and snarl like a wild animal at them.

In all actuality, these cells were mostly barren. There would be prisoners sprinkled in cells every now and then, but there were quite a few that were empty. Why was that? Unohana had seen on many accounts prisoners being taken into the prison’s depths, so there should be more people present than there currently were. Where were all the others?

The only thought that came to mind was that Mayuri had no further use out of them, so he disposed of them. Or, he had killed them from too much experimentation.

The kind-hearted healer looked at the boy in front of her. He was so vulnerable like this. It was hard for her to picture him as the monster that had attacked them. Was this to be his fate as well; viewed as an experiment for the scientists to play with how they choose and then thrown away when their interest in him ended?

“Here we are,” her guide said jolefully, bringing Unohana out of her reusing. She had not even noticed that he had stopped until he spoke. They stood near a cell like all the others they had passed on their way. Rust lay on the bars surface in a heavy coat with small puddles of water decorating the floor near the entrance.

Gazing deeper into the dark, stagnant depths of the cell, Retsu was able to make out the arsenal of machines placed for Ichigo’s continued care. Somehow, despite their presence, she was having a difficult time believing that they would truly be of any assistance.

The scientist swiftly took out a set of keys and fingered through them for a couple seconds before finding the one he was searching for. He inserted it into the simplistic lock and opened the cell door with a high-pitched squeak, “Right this way please,” he said while motioning for Unohana to enter with a wave of his hand.

With cautious footsteps, she pushed Ichigo inside the small room. It could be no bigger than ten feet on each side; a small space for anyone. All that was present besides the medical machinery was a small, gray colored bed that looked extremely dirty and worn. The seams on the edges were beginning to unravel and holes littered its surface. Definitely not the most ideal mattress to be sleeping on. It did not even have a sheet coving it. Only a scratching looking blanket was found at the end of the bed that would barely hold any warmth. Apparently, comfort was not one of the main concerns of this facility.

Once she reached the decrepit bed, Unohana gently lifted Ichigo’s form off the chair and placed him on the bed’s surface. The metal springs inside creaked loudly in protest from the added weight. With skillful ease, the captain began to hook Ichigo up to the machines at his side, now only about half of what were present in the room he had at her division.

“Such a unique specimen,” the scientist stated, startling the healer slightly. She did not even notice him come to her side. If she was being that absentminded, then she must really be out of it. She was normally so vigilant and aware of her surroundings.

“Ah, yes,” he said with a fierce grin. He leaned closer to the unconscious youth, arms folded behind his back as he observed every detail he could on Ichigo’s visage, “This one will definitely please Kurotsuchi-taichou.”

He made a slight clicking noise with his tongue before straightening. “You may leave now. We will have everything under control.”

Taking one last look at the orange-headed teen, Unohana turned towards the open cell door. After she crossed the threshold, she paused, lowering her head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the final words she spoke to the substitute who was not even awake to hear them. Her apology fell on painfully deaf ears, making the entire situation that much more painful.

The healer walked swiftly back down the path she traveled mere minutes ago. None of her focus was on where she was going. All she could think about was how she had just given the defenseless youth to the wolves without protest. She continued to place one foot in front of the other aimlessly, trying to distract herself from her chaotic thoughts. She focused on the sound of her footsteps that slapped softly against the hard stone on the ground, echoing lightly against the walls of the enclosed space with small inconsistencies. Anything was better than the deed she had carried out.

Before she knew it, the noises surrounding her change to loud claps as she found herself once again in the main linoleum tiled lab. Unohana did not stop though, not until she reached the door to exit the twelfth division.

Once she arrived outside, the unmoving, bearded figure of Yamamoto greeted her, standing stiffly with wooden cane gripped tightly in hand. He was ominously silent, even as Unohana walked up to him.

The stoic commander gazed at her piercingly, saying all that he needed to through his eyes. Unohana looked back intensely, not breaking eye contact for a second as she told her superior how she truly felt about what was being done. However, he made no comment on this.

“I have done as you have requested, sir,” she nearly spat the last word out in utter distaste. She was so disgusted with what had transpired; what the repercussions of her actions would be.

The Soutaichou nodded once and turned away from Unohana at that point. Instead, he continued to firmly stare at the building housing the accused, slatted eyes opening ever so slightly for him to direct his gaze filled with firing rage at it.

The fourth division captain took this as her cue to leave. She turned on her heel and stalked back to her medical bay, a deep, depressing atmosphere following in her wake like a lingering shadow. The commander’s grip tightened on his cane, the wood creaking in response to the added pressure. He tensed, whether from anger or some other emotion was undecernable. This was the best; the only decision that was logical given the situation presented. Despite everything, _this_ was the only path that could be agreed upon.

Despite _everything_.

Yamamoto gave a deep sigh that rattled in his chest, easing the near bone crushing grip he had acquired on his trusted cane. In a stiff manner, the old man raised his chin and, like his fellow captain, turned his back to the scene.

He walked away, cane clunking on the stone tiles beneath his feet with every two steps.

This was for the best. It had to be.

Right?

X-X-X-X-X

The world span. Everywhere he looked and everything he saw seemed to be dropped in a swirling vortex. Colors blended and blurred together, creating a vibrant, very had to look at image. It was as if someone had decided to take the room he was in and stuff it in a washing machine, wringed it out and slapped it back into place for their amusement.

God, he hated it all.

Ichigo held his aching, throbbing head in one hand while he attempted to use the other to push himself up in a better position. He managed on shaking limbs to get at least his torso off of what he was laying on. This small success brought a small smile onto his lips at his achievement, but was quickly whipped away when his elbow slipped off the edge, causing the rest of him to unfortunately follow.

The substitute gave an inarticulate cry before it was abruptly stopped when he connected with the hard, jagged ground. The breath was knocked out of him, despite the short drop and he briefly fought to get it back. After a few long seconds of struggling, he regained it in uneven gasps.

Clutching his now pounding head with both hands, Ichigo stiffly laid there, internally debating if he should try to move again. Eventually, he made to shift onto his side when a sharp stab of pain attacked his midsection.

Okay, maybe it would be best to just stay like this.

Ichigo continued to stay unmoving on the cold floor. He kept his eyes screwed shut, afraid that whatever distorted mess he was met with would only worsen his already excruciating headache.

Minutes passed that could have easily been hours as far as the orange-headed youth knew before he eventually gathered the strength to move once more. He slowly moved his body so that he could get onto his side. From there he was able to use the edge of the bed as an anchor to pull himself up. With much effort and extreme patience, Ichigo was able to make it to his knees, gasping for breath at this point again.

Resting the side of his head on the grungy mattress, he tried to regain some strength. During this time, he decided to take in his surroundings now that things had stopped spinning.

He definitely was not in the fourth division as he originally presumed by the machines beeping and the familiar presence of the IV in his arm, although that had been yanked out when he harshly fell from his resting potion. From the position his arm laid next to his head, he was able to turn it to see the small puncture mark leaking a sizeable amount of blood soaking into the dirtied fabric. But that was besides the matter. Instead of being assaulted with the blinding white walls of his normal room in the medical bay, a dark stony gray met his vision. Slick, wet rocks were what made up all sides of the room except for one composed of rusted steel bars narrowly placed next to each other. In the corner was the frail bed he was propped against along with a few medical machines playing their tunes of revivement.

His head slowly lifted from the bed and took in his surroundings with shock. Where was he? Why was he in a cell? What had he done to deserve-

Memories flooded back into his mind, recent events settling into their proper places. Unohana informing him on what Central forty-six had decreed and finally how they injected something into him after they told him that they were going to take him to Mayuri.

His eyes widened as he looked around again frantically. If that was the case, then was he really in Kurotsuchi’s possession? The breath hitched in his chest. That would not be true. They would not just give him to the maniac like that, would they?

Ichigo shivered on the damp floor and he wrapped his arms around his torso. He felt so cold and… empty inside, like something was missing. Something important. One hand absently reached behind his back and grasped thin air.

He did not have Zangetsu.

Turning his head around every which way, he desperately searched for his missing zanpakuto. He even resorted to crawling on his hands and knees to search in every corner of the small room. But he had no luck. His sword was not anywhere near him. Although, there was none last place he had not searched in yet.

Outside the bars.

Slowly, he crept towards the rusty metal cylinders, inching forwards. Once he was directly in front of them, he peeked between the spaces to look out into the dark hall. At this angle he could barely see anything except for the stone wall in front of his cell. He grabbed one of the bars and tried to squeeze his head through more to at least see around the corner. At least, that was his plan. As soon as the teen touched the metal, all of them began to glow an ominous red before giving him a harsh shock.

He yelped and shot backwards, shaking his burnt hand in the air to dismiss the pain. When it dulled down, Ichigo gazed warily at the offending bars that had dimmed down to a nearly translucent magenta coating the surfaces, but not dissipating completely.

Of course they would place a defensive kido on his cell. They perceived him as a menace already, so why not encage and harm him like a wild animal?

Taking a deep, supposedly calming breath, Ichigo forced himself to stop this line of thought and focus on something else. For example, how he was going to get out of this mess he found himself in currently. Eventually, he was able to make his way back to his dirty bed and stiffly sat in the corner. The substitute brought his soaked knees up to his chest and buried his still aching head, a sudden weakness overtaking him.

This entire situation he was in seemed like a dream, or, to put it more correctly, a horrible nightmare. All the events leading up to this point was practically a blur, happening so fast he could barely understand any of it. He certainly understood to a certain extent why they did what they did, but this? Were they not aware of how the twelfth division captain would treat, or more likely kill him?

Quick footsteps sharply filled his ears, two pairs; two people coming down the dim hall. Each time a shoe connected with the stone floor, Ichigo’s anxiety rose, heart quickening with every passing second. He tried to hide, make himself smaller on the bed to be less noticeable. He was the caged animal, and whoever was walking down that hall was the hunter coming to admire their quacking prey.

A white cloaked figure walked into his view, painted face smiling in pure glee exposing nearly all of his teeth. Nemu idly stood behind him, holding a small silver object that he could not clearly make out.

Mayuri brought his long middle finger to the bars of the cell and swept it across in a horizontal sweep. The nail clanged against the metal loudly, eliciting a startled jump out of the occupant.

“Looks like our little vizard is really just a scared mouse,” Kurotsuchi sneered, eyes alighting with barely restrained hunger.

The mad scientist snapped his head away from his prisoner and towards his obedient lieutenant, “Nemu! Open his cell!”

“Hai,” she responded in a monotone before taking out a key and placing it in the lock. After a brief chant, the kido was disengaged and the door opened and in walked the duo.

If Ichigo could have made himself any smaller, he would have shrunken down and hid under the bed like a little kid hiding from the monsters in their closet.

Mayuri came up next to Ichigo’s small bed, his hands folded behind his back, “My, my. You _are_ an interesting one, now aren’t you? That demonstration you gave days ago just let me know that,” be leaned in closer and grabbed the top of the teen’s orange head, “I _had_ to have you.”

Ichigo shuddered before swatting the captain’s arm away, narrowing his eyes in hate despite the conflicting fear that was boiling just below the surface, “Don’t touch me.”

Kurotsuchi frowned briefly before an insane grin broke out on his face again. He roughly grabbed Ichigo’s chin, forcing him to look directly into his eyes as the ten attempted to scoot back into the wall even further, “I don’t think you understand _boy_. I _own_ you now, and you can’t do _anything_ about it.”

The substitute’s eyes filled with fear. Pure terror, drowning him alive. The scientist harshly released his chin, causing Ichigo to fall to his side. He still felt so weak; drained of all energy.

“Take the specimen to my private lab, Nemu. We can proceed with the experimentations there in more… solitude.”

The lieutenant replied with a positive as she approached the petrified orangette. She brought forth the metal object in her hand, revealing it to be a medieval looking contraption. Before he had time to protest, the expressionless lieutenant had pinned his arms behind his back. She instantly snapped two metal cuffs onto his wrists and a large one across his neck like a collar. Identical chains were connected from each wrist to his neck, severely restricting his movements.

Ichigo was then forcefully pulled off the bed by the small woman where he stumbled to regain his balance on his feet. He swayed slightly and nearly fell over without the use of his arms, but Nemu placed a stabilizing hand on his shoulder that helped greatly. She then began to push him forwards, forcing his to stagger towards the cell door.

They traveled down the musky hall at a slow pace that the teen was barely able to keep up with. They passed by many other cells along the way before exiting the prison area, instead entering the main halls of the twelfth division.

At this point, Ichigo was sweating bullets and his weakened state was making his constantly trip over his own feet.

“The first test we will perform will be an examination of how his internal structure functions,” Mayuri started, an insane glint sparking in his eyes as he gazed over his should at his prisoner, “Then, we can see how much you can tolerate when it comes to pain. I think electricity would have an interesting result given your physical composition. Although, perhaps testing the effects of certain toxins on your body’s system would yield more interesting results.”

Ichigo’s blood ran colder with every word the twisted captain spoke. He was talking about _dissecting_ him?! How was he going to survive something like that?

He stumbled over a protruding tile and nearly fell over if it had not been for Nemu catching him by his side. He continued walking, each step filling him with more dread and filled in his chest.

After a few more minutes, in which Kurotsuchi continued to inform his captive on what he had planned, the group reached a steel door. Before opening it, the twelfth captain turned towards Ichigo and brandished a wicked smile that twisted his features.

“This is where all the fun happens,” he hissed gleefully as he turned and opened the door. The sight that met them was something out of a scene from a horror movie. Aside from the enormous screens decorating the walls, there were numerous glad containers filled with unidentifiable objects. Some looked suspiciously like human body parts while others simply looked like globs of goo.

A powerful push forced the youth into the terrifying room where he was practically dragged to a flat steel table with restraints attached to its surface. It was on this that he was strapped to after his own cuffs were released, only for new ones to be tightly locked into place on his wrists and ankles.

All this was done none too silently. Ichigo, through the entire process, struggled and screamed as much as he could in his current state. But it did no good. None of his struggles proved to be fruitful.

After he was fully strapped down onto the table, Nemu left his side to join her captain at his large computer. They began to discuss procedures, but Ichigo tuned them out. Instead, he looked around the room for some way to escape using his limited range. There was nothing he could find except for more fear-inducing objects that gave him chills. He was about to abandon his search when white briefly flashed in the corner of his vision.

The substitute desperately tried to get a better view of what had caught his attention, positioning his head in many odd and rather painful positions. Finally, he was able to fully see the object and it caused him to gasp.

It was Zangetsu. His zanpakuto was _right there_ , in this very room, and he could not reach it.

The feelings of regret, uselessness and powerlessness washed over him in a tidal wave. Depression gripped him in its cold, dead grasp. He truly could do nothing. He was utterly alone.

**_‘You will never escape,’_** the cold voice of his hollow whispered in his mind.

For some reason, Ichigo listened to him instead of shoving him away.

**_‘Did ya really thing that they would just free ya after ya practically let me loose?’_ **

_‘But I didn’t-‘_ the teen thought.

**‘Don’t kid yerself, King,’** the demon sneered, **_‘It’s all yer fault that yer in this position. It’s because yer weak.’_ **

_‘N-no…’_

_‘Yes,’_ he hissed, **_‘Ya are. An’ ya know what? They’re gonna kill ya. Rip yer body to shreads and leave nothing left but pieces.’_**

Ichigo was silent, utter chaos running amok in his head. He was so terrified by his predicament that what his hollow was saying actually started to sound convincing.

He really was going to die.

_**‘That’s right, King. They’re gonna torture ya till ya can’t scream any more. Cut you open till there’s nothin’ left to cut. Then, once they get bored of ya, they’ll get rid of ya. Slit yer throat or rip out all yer body parts till yer just an empty shell. You**_ **will die,** _ **’**_ he whispered with malice lacing each syllable.

Every word scared Ichigo to the core and he believed it all.

“Begin the administration, Nemu,” the high-pitched voice of Kurotsuchi ordered, snapping Ichigo roughly out of his trance and back to reality.

“Hai, Mayuri-sama,” Nemu said and approached the teen’s side with a large syringe filled to the brim with a glowing blue substance.

Ichigo’s eyes widened at the site, pupil’s contracting in fear. He thrashed as much as possible on the metal table, trying and failing to get away from the sharp needle steadily approaching his side.

_**‘I could end all of this,**_ ’ the hollow purred in his mind, caressing him with the simple thought.

“No, no, no!” Ichigo yelled in response, not taking his eyes off of the syringe.

_**‘Too bad.’** _

The substitute suddenly stopped his movements, body falling completely still with his mouth slightly open. From the corner of his left eye, a trail of pure black appeared crawling across his eye.

From outside the twelfth division, a bone-chilling scream pierced the air.


	3. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: This chapter contains violent themes and descriptions that may be disturbing for some readers. Please keep that in mind while continuing to read. Mainly present during the first half. ******

_“The object of life is not to be on the other side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.”_

_-Marcus Aurelius_

X-X-X-X-X

Outside of the Research and Development department, screams of excruciating pain penetrated the air. A multitude of crashes soon followed before one of the thick off-white walls exploded outwards. Debris and dust flew about in every direction, clouding the area to the point where only shadows were discernible.

Slowly, the dust gradually began to settle to provide minimal visibility. What was revealed was complete destruction. Nearly half of the wall, almost twenty feet of thick brick, had been destroyed; reduced to rubble. A rather large section of the remains was piled a short distance away from this wreckage, finally coming into focus. Small glimpses of pale alabaster peaked through the stones, progressively becoming more distinguishable. Eventually, the nearly unrecognizable form was exposed entirely.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

His pasty, painted skin that was only a shade lighter than the broken bricks surrounding him instantly gave away his identity. The multiple gashes and cuts decorated his flesh were gushing blood, marring his form to the point that anyone glancing at the wreckage would only be able to distinguish a gory, mangled mess.

One of Kurotsuchi’s arms stuck out of the rubble at an odd, painful angle to the left. However, the only thing remaining of the other appendage was a mutilated stump. From the shoulder down was gone, only spindly remnants of muscle, tendons and blood vessels lingered limply from the site.

Whether the deranged scientist was breathing or not – alive or dead – could not be perceived at the time.

Near the abolished wall, a figure emerged from the shadows within the building. The black robed frame held a posture was brimming with confidence, his sword held leisurely at his side. While his face was half concealed by a mask with a single red stripe running vertically down the side, he could be easily identified, if the radiant orange hair was anything to go by. A broad, maniacal smile split his face as he stared at the form of his opponent. In his left arm dangled the severed appendage of the fallen captain, a sluggish stream of blood dripping steadily from the end. The black nails on it were all severely fractured with the one in the middle, longer than the rest, broken cleanly down the center.

The possessed figure indolently swung the limp arm from side to side, watching as the blood splattered on the dirtied floor. Then, he roughly tossed it to his left where it landed with a dull thud against a broken lab table.

**“It always amazes me when I see how weak an’ frail ya Shinigami are,”** the hollow began, stalking towards the pile the captain currently resided in, **“I play with ya fer only a couple a minutes an’ then ya brake.”** He knelt down to where the pale man’s head was, one hand on his knees while his cleaver-sized zanpakuto rested on his shoulders. Instantly, his character changed like the flip of a switch. His crazed smirk vanished, replaced by an angered scowl filled with mirth. He spoke in a low, threatening voice, **“Now I gotta find myself a new toy or I’ll get bored.”**

Suddenly, the loud, piercing sound of the alarm traveled to his ears, broadcasted throughout all of the Seireitei, _“Warning! Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, has escaped confinement in the twelfth division. All available officers in the vicinity are to detain him immediately. Proceed with caution! Warning! Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, has escaped confinement in the twelfth division. All available officers in the vicinity are to detain him immediately. Proceed with caution!”_

The message repeated a couple times more before the alarm quieted and ceased all together. The masked teen grinned at the announcement as a dark laughter bubbled up from his throat.

**“This may make things a little more interestin,’”** he said in glee.

Getting up from his crouched position, the hollow walked slowly out of the nearly settled dust and into the open. He was met with the sight of a multitude of Shinigami already rushing to his location after hearing the warning seconds before, swords drawn and ready for battle.

He gained a ravenous glint in his eyes as he surveyed those rushing to meet him. **“Come on then! Let’s dance.”** He sprang into action after than proclamation, running to meet his adversaries head on. The mask on the left side of his face was continuing to inch farther across his skin with every minute.

The closest Shinigami to his position, a girl with wavy red hair and freckles dotting her cheeks, was the first to engage in combat with the demonic teen. She gave out a worthy battle cry and brought her released zanpakuto – the appearance similar to a chainsaw with its serrated edge on all sides of the blade – forward in a swift overhead arch. It held the speed and power of an experienced officer, most likely a seated. The resounding clang of metal on metal was the result from her strike as the hollow met her attack with one of his own. However, instead of simply parrying as the woman had anticipated, the masked opponent took his assault a step farther. His swing held much more force than predicted and cut through the opposing sword with ease, splitting it in half.

The redhead’s shock at this occurrence was plastered on her face. But that surprise did not stop there. After completing his swing, the hollow spun quickly on the balls of his feet and horizontally cut the girl straight across her abdomen.

She fell to her knees as she grasped the site of her wound with both hands, blood seeping from it and the corner of her mouth. Looking up at her enemy with dulled eyes, she let a single tear fall down her cheek before the upper half of her body slid to the side and fell to the ground as her lower half slumped forward completely.

With the broken zanpakuto lying beside her severed body, the unnamed officer died, cut cleanly in two by a single strike; one of the first victims of many more to come.

After defeating the first Shinigami, the hollow joyfully proceeded to the next. Flipping his sword around by tossing it in the air so that it was reversed from the normal grip, he thrust the steel blade backwards, impaling the man through the chest attempting to get him from behind.

He pulled Zangetsu out of the flesh and readied it for the three coming from the side. With a quick shunpo, he appeared mere feet in front of them. Before they had the chance to grasp what occurred, the perpetrator swung his sword up, effectively sending the one in the middle of the group off his feet and up into the air, a trail of crimson in his wake. During the few seconds that the Shinigami spent making his way back to earth, the masked individual used to dispatch the other two on either side of him.

Swiping diagonally across the torso, the hollow cut his opponent on the right from shoulder to pelvis. The brown-haired soldier immediately fell from the attack just as his killer turned to deliver a swift kick to the knee of the blonde to his left. An audible crack was heard on impact as the bones snapped on contact, only brittle twigs compared to the hollow’s power. The blonde female let out an agonizing scream and crippled to the ground.

As she grasped her leg with shaking limbs, her assailant stepped up beside her and reached for one of her quivering arms. Once he got ahold of the appendage, he pushed the girl onto her back with his foot, keeping the limb in a tight hold. With a malicious grin, the possessed teen began to pull at the arm, eliciting more screams from the hapless victim.

Almost instantly, a wet, tearing sound traveled across the space currently being used as a battle field. A sickening rip came after as the arm was torn from the body, looking similar to how Kurotsuchi’s did once his appendage was gone. The hollow flung the limb away in the same fashion as well before piercing the blonde’s chest with his bare hand.

It was at this point that all signs of life vanished from her eyes.

He pulled his hand out of the stilled chest, along with a seizing heart. He brought it up to his mouth and ran his tongue slowly across the muscular surface, lapping up the blood before sinking his teeth in it. He savored the meaty bite before tossing the rest of the organ away into the dirt where it continued to feebly twitch.

The hollow swallowed, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned back towards the Shinigami still present. More continued to arrive in order to aid the situation. Most that had witnessed the act were stunned to the point of repulsion and horror, not being able to move while others were utterly terrified.

The hollowfied teen released a chilling bark of laughter that echoed ominously off the walls. Many backed up, but it seemed to jostle the Shinigami out of their stupors and back into action against the enemy they faced, despite their overwhelming fears. They had a job to do; to stop the man – or creature from hell – at all costs.

The battle began anew as the officers rushed at their target again. The hollow met them all with vigor, swinging his blade left and right as scarlet flew in all directions, staining the ground it fell upon.

Every attack, jump, dodge, kick or punch the battle-crazed teen made held unmatched power and grace in each movement. He was a beast of destruction bounding among the corpses of those fallen by his hand. The fluidity of his actions could not be matched or countered in any way. He was truly dancing among them it seemed; a demonic dance of death where he would be the only one left standing when the performance was done.

**“More, more, _more!_ ”** he yelled into the hordes of people, **“Someone fight me who ain’t a weak-“** He stopped midsentence as his control on the body wavered, freezing him in place temporarily as he fought with the other occupant of his mind for dominance.

“Now’s our chance! Get him!” a brave Shinigami ordered upon realizing that their formidable opponent was temporarily open to their attacks. In a desperate attempt to end the slaughter, they all charged at once, swords drawn back and ready to defeat the lone figure frozen before them.

They were nearly upon him now, only yards away. With one final push at his so-called King, the hollow managed to gain control completely once again, right as tens of blades were poised to skewer him where he stood. In the split instance that it took for him to grasp his situation, he decided on a quick course of action.

The instance before the numerous blades were to imbed themselves in his flesh, the hollow spun in a full circle with his blade’s edge out, muttering two words barely above a whisper.

**“Getsuga Tenshou."**

A massive band of black slammed into those on all sides of him. The force of the attack, however, did not stop with the massacre of the Shinigami in his general vicinity. It continued outwards, spreading until the circle of black power collided with the nearby buildings. Any Shinigami that were unfortunate enough to be in the path of the attack were taken out. The structures that the attack hit crumbled instantly from the impact, entire buildings falling apart as if they were a house of legos being kicked over.

The cause of this destruction idly assessed his work, a lopsided smirk adorning his visage and zanpakuto resting on his shoulder. With a pensive sigh, he willed the cloth wrappings of his sword to envelop it and placed it on his back.

**“That was kinda fun, but,”** he said off handedly to anyone still alive or conscious to listen, **“I’d best be getting’ gone.”**

Reaching one hand above his head, the masquerading youth gathered black reiatsu at the tips of his fingers. Then, forming his hand into a claw, he swiped down. Instead of only going through air, his hand tore a rip in the space it passed through, one which he then proceeded to widen by pulling at both sides.

He had successfully opened a Garganta.

Not wasting time, the hollow stepped through the portal and it immediately snapped shut

. He had escaped, leaving countless dead and injured in his wake.

X-X-X-X-X

Rukia was running, running as fast as she possibly could. She had already shunpoed most of the way to her current location and was now forced to sprint the rest of the way in because of the maze-like arrangement.

After hearing the broadcasted message, the first thing she did was burst out of the eighth division corridors and rush to the twelfth. Her actions were so abrupt that she startled and knocked over some of the people nearest to her.

She sure did pick one hell of a day to go personally to ask her brother something, hence why she was in his division and not her own. It had been a trivial matter too, not holding much value. But of course, she had gone directly to his office because she had wanted to talk to him about how well her training was progressing since they had returned from Hueco Mundo. Her captain even mentioned the possibility of promoting her soon, so she wanted to personally tell him the good news.

_‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’_

If she had been at her own division, then she could have been at the site minutes ago instead of still rushing to it. Fate seemed oh too willing to mess with her lately though, giving her the middle finger at anything she did.

Rounding a corner, the petite noble could tell that she was finally about to reach the desired division. Only a few more turns and she could make it to find out exactly what was going on. In her mind, there was no way that the Ichigo she knew would harm other Shinigami for no reason. She had not even known that he was in the Soul Society in the first place until the grand announcement had been made making it sound like he was going berserk. He had to be doing whatever it was for some logical reason. Either that or someone had gotten the information wrong. That had to be it. She could not bring her mind to come to any other conclusions because that was all that could be possible. Nothing else made sense.

A ground-shaking explosion caused Rukia to lose her balance and pitch forward, scraping her arms and face against the rough stone she treaded. The trembling soon ceased after a matter of seconds and she was able to pick herself off the ground. With not a moment of hesitation, she took off towards her destination with renewed determination. The explosion most likely came from where Ichigo was at, and that could mean that he needed her help.

Turning the last corner, she stumbled over some debris that littered the ground near a half-destroyed building, but this time skillfully regained her balance before she ended up sprawled onto the ground again. Maneuvering around the rubble, she soon reached the edge of a clearing that held barely any resemblance to what the area previously looked like. Truly a field a death.

Stilled bodies of her fellow soldiers covered the ground, lifeless and mutilated nearly beyond recognition. Many had nearly unimaginable wounds ranging from missing all limbs to being cut in half from the middle of the head down, exposing all the fleshy organs inside that were spilling out. She even managed to glimpse an unfortunate corpse that had its entire chest torn apart. The sternum was split in two, leaving the inner workings visible. But, what was most disturbing was how the lungs and heart were torn out and laid beside the body with odd chunks missing from them.

A flash of orange diverted her attention away from the brutal scene. Rukia’s eyes widened notably as she saw the familiar figure that had saved her life more times than she was willing to admit standing in the midst of all the carnage, virtually unscathed. But that was not all that made her body stiffen with surprise.

It was the porcelain mask that covered half of his face that took away her breath and caused her heart to skip more than a beat. Pure white hiding the tanned skin, only disturbed by the streak of red traveling down the side, was placed on the familiar face. It was the mask she had seen only on a few occasions, although with a slightly altered appearance than what she was used to. This partial and growing version of the mask told her that the person she was looking at was definitely not Ichigo, but the hollow that normally resided within his soul; that he had control over.

The monster that nearly broke the Substitute’s will not long ago.

Rukia was torn from her thoughts when the imposter posing as the Ichigo she knew did something she was not expecting. He opened a Garganta with ease as if he had done this countless of times before. She was so stunned that she made no movement at all; nothing to stop him as he stepped though the portal and disappeared completely.

“No… no…” the short girl muttered. She took a few steps towards where she had last seen the person she held so dearly to her heart, hand outreached in a feeble gesture to grasp the now nonexistent man back by her side. Her shaking legs eventually gave out and she crumpled to the dirt on her hands and knees, her zanpakuto that she had not recalled unsheathing clanging to her side.

The blood from her fallen comrades was now soaking through the fabric on her legs, but she did not care or even notice at this point because she was numb in body and mind.

A lone whisper holding more emotion than most people are able to comprehend traveled from the quivering Shinigami.

“Ichigo…”

X-X-X-X-X

A black, cloudless night enveloped the landscape with a crescent moon being the only source of light. No stars could be seen anywhere in the vast extensive gloom. Nor were there any signs of life present on the bleached white sand below. In the far off distance, there were vague shapes resembling trees, but those only had the similarities to that point. If seen up close, they could easily be recognized as stone and not, in fact, actual wood. How such structures even formed was a mystery in itself.

Above this motionless, dead landscape, an opening ten feet above the ground came into existence. A tall figure clad in black with a contrasting head of orange emerged, stepping out of the opening in space and descending to the terrain below.

His sandaled feet touched down on the sand in a less than lithe manner. Staggering, the being took only a couple steps forward before the mask he wore cracked and splintered severely. Sections of the material chipped and fell off, disintegrating in the air before being able to reach the ground.

A menacing set of chuckles escaped from the masked creature that sounded somewhat broken, almost like the being did not have enough strength to do so full-heartedly. The cracks in the mask increased.

**“Welcome to yer new hell, _King_.”** The mask split entirely and fell off its owner in chunks. The opaque darkness receded from the orange headed man’s eyes as he caught a glimpse of the white landscape before him. Just as the last thread of black receded from his sclera, a deep and foreboding sense of despair filled his every thought, right before his body swayed forward and his eyes rolled back in his head.

The black robed boy hit the sand with a dull thump. The final strands of consciousness left the youth in that moment and his mind receded into a comatose state filled with his most dreaded nightmares.

Nightmares that were all too real.

X-X-X-X-X

One short Kuchiki noble was slowly walking solemnly through all of the carnage left on the twelfth division grounds, as were a handful of other officers that had arrived later on the scene. They were examining each corpse they came across – which was not all that difficult considering the vast amount of bodies present – checking to see if they could find any survivors amongst them.

Despite the abundant number she had already inspected, Rukia had found no signs of life. Not one person – or what remained of the Shinigami she found – had a beating heart. From what she gathered from the other officers searching nearby, they were having no luck in their searches either. All were dead, and that thought sickened her to her core.

A nearly mute whimper made her head snap over to the soft noise. She gingerly picked her way across the bodies towards the source and found a young looking girl with short-cropped black hair surrounded by her own blood. A gaping hole was found right above her hip the size of a large fist, covered partially by the woman’s quivering hand. Small gasps of pain were the only noise she emitted.

Rukia knelt down beside the girl, checking to see how critical the wound was. It was more serious than she thought as she got a closer look at it. Many of her vital organs were pierced, causing irreversible damage that would not stop bleeding.

She was startled when she felt something grasp her arm. Looking down, she saw the hand of the injured girl desperately clinging to her.

“P-plea…se,” the Shinigami wheezed painfully. Tears were weld up in her eyes as she gasped for breath. All Rukia could do was listen and hold the girl’s hand in her own. “Ple-ease… Help… m-me. It h-hurts… it hurt-ts s-so bad.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get you the help you need, don’t worry.” In truth, she knew there was no chance of the girl surviving. The wound was far too severe to be treated even if they got medics to her quickly. All she could do was provide comfort to the poor soul.

“Thank you…” she rasped, relief flooding through her eyes momentarily. “Th-thank…” Her eyes closed and her breathing stilled before she was able to continue.

Rukia sighed heavily. They had been out here for quite some time now, and they had still not found any survivors.

She got up and apathetically patted the dirt off her uniform. Although it made no difference. With the amount of blood staining her clothes, they were undoubtedly ruined.

“Rukia! Rukia!” The distant cry traveled to her ears, sounding distinctly like a certain tattooed redhead she knew.

The eighth division lieutenant barreled his way onto the site not seconds after. His expression was predictable as he saw the area completely and what it held. Once he spotted Rukia though, he snapped out of it and hastily made his way over to her.

“Finally!” he said breathlessly, hands on his knees, “It took me forever to find you! Do you know how hard you can be to find?” Renji asked looking at the girl in question.

She was just about to retort when Renji cut her off. “Never mind, I’m just glad you’re alright. After I heard the alarm, I panicked because I knew you’d try to get here as soon as that idiot’s name was mentioned.

“So, what exactly happened here?” the lieutenant surveyed the gruesome clearing again, concern lacing his words for not only his long-time friend’s sake, but for the strawberry being discussed as well.

“I… I’m not really sure.” The noble quietly shook her head as she clamped her eyes shut.

“Oi, Rukia.” Now ever more worried, Abarai tried to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know!” Rukia all but screamed, startling Renji away, “I mean, this is the first that I’ve heard that Ichigo was even here, but now we have to deal with _him_ too?! I never even knew how he dealt with that-that demon in the first place since he never told me! Those kinds of details are important! Gah!” She flung her hands in the air, breathing heavy nearing on hyperventilation.

“How could he have done something like this?” Rukia muttered in a much more subdued manner.

“Um, Rukia?” the redhead started, hesitant to attempt to stop her from the confusing ramble, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please try to explain it to me a bit slower?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rukia turned and looked Renji directly in the eyes, pure anguish causing them to swim. “Ichigo was here, attacking any Shinigami he saw without a second’s thought. But it wasn’t him!” At this part, Renji became even more confused, “It wasn’t Ichigo because he had the hollow mask on, only it was different. From what I’ve heard from Nii-san, the way the mask seemed to be growing on his face should mean that Ichigo wasn’t the one in control, but his hollow.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that Ichigo’s hollow is the one that did all this?” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm towards the horde of motionless bodies.

“Yeah, I think.”

“How did this even happen? I thought Ichigo was in control on his hollow.”

“So did I. As we can see, that obviously isn’t the case anymore. Something is definitely wrong here and we need to find out what.” The familiar Kuchiki glint was beginning to come back into her eyes, steeling her nerves. “First of all why was Ichigo here in Soul Society, specifically in the twelfth division?”

Renji pondered the matter briefly before a thought struck him, “Yesterday, I remember Kuchiki-taichou mentioning something about Kurotsuchi-taichou having a new prisoner or subject. Something along those lines. I only heard part of it so it’s not much to go by, but it could have been Ichigo he was talking about. Even though that’s a horrible thought,” the tattooed man sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe we should ask Kurotsuchi-taichou about it”

“Asking Kurotsuchi anything won’t do any good since he’s dead,” a new voice supplied.

That statement took a few moments to fully process. Both Shinigami turned to the speaker – a disheveled Akon – with incredulous looks.

“What? Dead?! What do you mean ‘dead’?” Renji screamed at the man.

“I mean he’s dead. I found him buried under the remains of a destroyed wall of our department. No signs of life, therefore, dead.”

“How…”

“I don’t know the specifics to how he was killed, but my best assumption is that he did something to trigger Ichigo-san’s aggression and ultimately his hollow when he was brought in for experimentation,” Akon stated nonchalantly.

Little did he know that what he had said was a trigger in itself for a certain short noble. “Ex-experimentation?!” She practically screeched, “What did that psychopathic clown do to Ichigo?”

If it were not for the dire situation they were facing, Renji would have mused at how much the orange-haired teen was rubbing off on Rukia. She normally would never refer to her captains – deceased or otherwise – in such a disrespectful manner. It would have been quite comical, but he had other things to worry about, such as the frantic aristocrat.

Renji sighed. This entire situation kept becoming more complicated by the second. That stupid idiot was always getting into trouble. Nothing could be normal with him around either, could it? It seemed that whenever the teen was present, things went from bad to worse. True, he did manage to help save the day – as clichéd as that sounds – every time, but that kind of work of tiring, damn it! Especially since he somehow was always recruited most of the time to help him out.

Now, to add to the mess currently stewing, he had a practically hysterical woman he had to deal with. Plus, he still had next to no understanding of what was going on with Ichigo and this ordeal that he created.

At this point, Rukia was practically nose to nose the tall scientist as she clutched the front of his hakama with pale fingers, face nearly touching his as she threw question after question at him, not sparing a second for him to answer. The poor researcher was beginning to look distressed at the crazed Shinigami.

“Give him some room to breathe, Rukia!” Renji said as he pried the petite girl off of Akon’s front. Once he was able to get her to release her hold, he backed away slightly to give his fellow comrade some space.

The scientist shakily straightened out his uniform and cleared his throat tentatively. Slowly, he began to explain the predicament starting from the beginning to the two in a short summarization based on what they needed to know. All of the details that pertained to their questions were given, filling in the holes of their knowledge to a certain degree. On some instances of his speech, Rukia would look ready to strangle Akon, especially when he mentioned how Central forty-six sentenced Ichigo to free-range experiments by Mayuri. Her furry at those moments could not be matched as it radiated off of her in waves.

Finally coming to a swift conclusion, the third seat finished informing the two. With the excuse that he had other duties he needed to attend to, Akon scurried away, leaving them to dwell on what they had been told. To say that they were surprised would be an understatement. They were bewildered beyond belief, at a stand-still for what to do for their next course of action.

A Hell Butterfly fluttered into sight, daintily flapping its delicate wings as it landed on Renji’s outstretched finger. Silently, it relayed its message to him. It took to the air a moment later, its task completed as it returned from where it came.

Rukia looked at her companion expectantly, giving off a slightly curious vibe that contrasted immensely with her current frenzied demeanor. Her eyes were almost pleading to a point, very unlike the normal glint of confidence that always shone in almost any situation she faced. It made her look somewhat… pitiful and frail.

Renji squared his shoulders and told her the contents of the message, “We’re both being summoned to the Soutaichou’s office immediately. The message didn’t say specifically why, but we should hurry. It sounded urgent.”

The Kuchiki noble nodded once and together, she and the red-haired lieutenant steadily rushed towards their new destination.

X-X-X-X-X

The large, spacious office of the first division contained only two main items: a thin, wooden desk and a matching tall chair. Both were simple in nature and design, holding no grand significance at all. The only objects placed on top of the desk was a neatly organized stack of files and paperwork, pushed to the corner for later use. One set of arms leaned onto the sturdy wood, crossed in a dignified manner. The owner was sitting hunched in the chair silently as he gazed upon the two officers standing stalk in front of his desk.

They had finished recounting their knowledge about the events of the day from their own perspectives. Now they were soundlessly awaiting for what their commander had to say.

The aged and grayed man pondered what he had heard, rolling the information over in his head. He recalled the recent meeting he had with the Central forty-six minutes before.

_“He escaped. The abomination that we put into your_ seemingly capable _hands has vanished practically without a trace from the Soul Society! The Omnitsukido report we received states that he was able to evade capture by creating a Garganta, which we were not informed he had the ability to perform. Is this true, Yamamoto-Soutaichou?” a head judge ground out, profoundly enraged._

_“Indeed, it seems to be the case,” the elderly commander replied in a neutral tone._

_Ravenous yells of protests filled the dimly lit chamber. They were harshly quieted as the same judge continued, “This is unacceptable. The mutation cannot be allowed freedom. We have already determined that his immediate detainment be issued. You are to assign this mission without delay. Be sure that it is completed without complications.”_

_“Understood.” Yamamoto promptly bowed, leaving directly after with his task in mind._

The Soutaichou gazed down at his hands for only a second before turning back to the pair. “I have a mission for the two of you. It must be performed with diligence and without questions,” Yamamoto’s raspy voice instructed.

They both instantly perched up at this news as the commander continued.

“The Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, is to be retrieved at all costs from Hueco Mundo. It has been deduced that it is there in which he fled. Prepare yourselves appropriately for this task and depart as soon as possible.”

“Hai, Soutaichou!” they said in unison.

“Dismissed.” They hastily retreated from the extensive and barren office, hope at last being in their grasps.

He sat back in his chair with a huff. Those two Shinigami knew Kurosaki the best out of all his officers. They would, given the proper motivation, be able to convince the ‘convict’ to return without unnecessary conflict occurring. At least, that was what he prayed to any deity listening would happen. Things never had gone the way he expected whenever that human was involved.


	4. The Instinct

" _Instinct is intelligence incapable of self-consciousness."_

_-John Sterling_

* * *

With a resounding bang, the large wooden doors shut, leaving the plain and vast chamber virtually empty save for the bearded Soutaichou occupying the wooden chair behind the desk. Many thoughts plagued his aged mind as he contemplated the results of the mission.

There was three main outcomes that were most likely to transpire. The first was that the two officers he had sent to Hueco Mundo would be able to persuade the rouge substitute to return to the Soul Society without resistance. This possibility, although the most favorable, was not very probable. Yamamoto was still taking into consideration the hollow's presence. With the malevolent spirit, the odds of there being no confrontation was minimal to none. From the brief report he received to give him a vague understanding of the recent incident, the elderly man was confident that this outcome would not happen.

The next was that Abarai and Kuchiki would be forced to subdue him. The boy's hollow still had the high prospect of being in control when encountered by the Shinigamis and would undoubtedly engage in combat. With their high levels of skill, the two soldiers could be able to subdue and bring back the substitute accordingly.

Finally, the last and by far most undesirable possibility of the mission was it ending in failure. The second scenario would still happen to a certain point where the two forces fought, but the similarities would end there. The hollow could overpower his opposition, defeating them with ease. He was able to kill one of his captains – although exactly how still eluded him - along with a large amount of lower level officers, the exact number not yet known. His power would easily overwhelm them, leaving the uncontrollable youth free to cause unsurmountable destruction as he pleased.

Yamamoto leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin in his folded hands. He could only hope that it never came to that. Not only would he lose two nearly invaluable soldiers, but also have an even more complicated situation to deal with.

This mission was more delicate than Yamamoto would have preferred. The main factor was too unpredictable to foresee the turnout of the events. It all depended on the boy and his mental condition at the time he encountered his comrades.

One thing Yamamoto did not like was unpredictable factors. It was almost a constant that he always knew the results of events even if multiple possibilities were present. It was a benefit to his old age. The wisdom he had gained through his years allowed him to easily predict practically everything. Nearly nothing surprised him. But virtually all of Kurosaki's actions he had seen thus far went against all his foretelling. Adding the now uncontrollable, berserk hollow into the mix only complicated the situation farther than the Soutaichou would have ever expected.

He had barely any information about the hollow's nature, only that he was incredibly lustful for bloodshed, much like a certain captain he had under his jurisdiction. Although that was not enough to base any assumptions off. For all he knew, the heartless beast could escape capture and cause serious problems to arise in the future. Or, if he was brought into captivity successfully, he could theoretically break free of his restraints and lash out at whoever was nearby. The entire incident that occurred only minutes ago would be repeated, leading to even more casualties.

Quick, precise footsteps quietly echoed around the walls of the room, becoming louder as they approached the head captain's desk. First division fukutaichou Sasakibe Chōjirō stopped at Yamamoto's left, one arm folded behind his back while the other held a small object. "I have brought the item you have requested, Soutaichou," Sasakibe stated in a smooth tone, setting the object in the center of his captain's desk.

The item was purely black, square in shape and only about four inches long on all sides. A small, circular button protruded from the side which Sasakibe pushed after setting the device down. After a light click, a soft whirling sound was emitted before the machine opened down the center and the sides folded back. Two round lenses were revealed of different sizes, both immediately beginning to project images into the empty space in front of the desk. A three dimensional scene was created, producing a clear view of Mayuri's lab before it was reduced to a pile of rubble.

The clown-like captain had installed cameras years ago in order to enforce security, not trusting any under his command or the other squads enough to let them run around unsupervised. There was a previous incident where important information had been stolen and he had since become paranoid about not knowing everything that those in his division were doing. Even though the culprit had been apprehended and punished accordingly for his actions, it was not enough for Kurotsuchi. He had a constant eye on every room in his department, each camera recording the footage and saving it to archives in a different, more secure location.

Thanks to Kurotsuchi's paranoia, Yamamoto was provided the ability to see firsthand how the battle leading up to the massacre happened. He might be able to discern the outcome of the mission better after watching it.

The scene started to play, at first only giving the feed of the unchanging lab. Eventually, after a short time, the grand metal doors parted, allowing three individuals to enter. The twelfth-division captain, his lieutenant and the orange-headed prisoner walked into the room. The latter struggled weakly in the grasp of the emotionless fukutaichou when he laid eyes on the steel examination table he was being forced towards.

The Soutaichou continued to watch with an unwavering gaze as the teenager was strapped down and Kurotsuchi prepared a glowing syringe to inject into his experiment's arm. He was not surprised either when the captive ceased his struggles. All of those unfortunate enough to face similar situations acted nearly the same. They would either give up all together and accept their fate or fought back, which he had somewhat expected Kurosaki to do. He did, however, raised an eyebrow at what occurred next.

The tip of the needle penetrated the tanned skin, glowing contents still in its glass container, when an unexpectedly large amount of black reiatsu exploded from Ichigo. For a moment, the projection's image was blurred partially with static. The force behind the wave of power pushed Mayuri and his lieutenant off their feet and they both landed feet away. The metal vile crashed onto the concrete floor. The center casing shattered on impact, spilling the liquid in a messy puddle.

The mad scientist was quick to rise from the ground as a squealing chuckle made its way from his painted lips.  _"This is wonderful! To think that he still had this much energy left… astounding. Truly magnificent!"_

" _ **Quit yer yappin',"**_  drawled the figure on the table,  _ **"It's annoyin'."**_  With a flick of his wrists and a tug of his legs, he broke the metal clamps holding him down with ease and sat up. He faced the two and produced a feral smirk, extending one open hand to the side.

In an instant, the cleaver-sized sword flew into his palm with the white cloth flowing elegantly behind. Without pausing, he tossed the weapon in the air and grasped the fabric dangling by the end. In a strong swing, the blade was careening down towards the two Shinigami faster than they could react.

A shout of  _"Nemu!"_  was heard when the zanpakuto connected with the tiled floor with a loud crash. Dust billowed into the air, obscuring the camera's view of the scene temporarily. Several yells and steel clashes could be discerned through the chaos, including two sets of nefarious laughter. It took no more than twenty seconds for the dust to clear enough to allow those watching the video feed to gain visibility and observe the damage caused.

The hollowfied teen had locked blades with Kurotsuchi's released zanpakuto. The painted captain struggled to hold off his opponent, visibly shaking from the strain of keeping the other's sword at bay. Yet he still had a grin splitting his face. His adversary wore a similar expression with a darker tint, only gripping the hilt of his weapon with one hand while the other kept its hold on the cloth.

Against one of the destroyed counters, Nemu was partially buried underneath large sections of broken tile and concrete. She was unconscious from a large gash on her head, crimson blood freely flowing from the laceration and coating the side of her face in sticky red. Neither competitors paid her any mind, instead choosing to focus solely on each other.

" _Marvelous!"_ Mayuri said with a strained voice, obviously still struggling with the force oppressing him,  _"Tell me… How is it that you are able to exhibit such astonishing strength in order to function at this level? Is it anatomical differences or perhaps the characteristics of your reiryoku as a hollow compared to Kurosaki's Shinigami reiryoku?"_  the scientist questioned analytically despite his situation. Even when faced with an imposing threat, he continued to seek answers. Truly, he was mad.

" _ **I told ya ta shut up,"**_  the hollow responded darkly, pushing harder against Kurotsuchi's blade and forcing the captain to take a step back. Black reiatsu rolled off him in heavy waves and the mask adorning his face grew.  _ **"It's givin' me a headache."**_

In a flash, the twisted youth shoved Mayuri backwards, causing him to momentarily falter. In his short lapse of vulnerability, the hollow dove forwards and grabbed the captain's flailing right arm in his left, holding him in place. Before Mayuri could react, the possessed substitute swung his zanpakuto down intending to severe his opponent in half.

At the last possible second, Kurotsuchi managed to jerk his body to the side. The hollow's strike instead sliced cleanly through the arm, separating it from his body.

Now free, Kurotsuchi shunpoed away from the hollow to the other side of the lab a presumably safe distance away. He acknowledged his injury with a brief, annoyed glance.  _"Really now. This is going to be rather vexing to deal with before I can regrow the appendage,"_  he muttered.

" _ **Yer much weaker than I thought,"**_  the hollow suddenly interjected, stopping the madman from continuing his monologue,  _ **"I wanna get to the**_ **real** _ **fun."**_

Still clutching the severed appendage in his hand, the hollow swung Zangetsu in Mayuri's direction. A wave of obsidian energy was flung from the dark steel and crashed into the opposing figure. Kurotsuchi could only gape at the large surge of power before he was hit, not having enough time to evade from the large, swift attack.

The explosion following the collision shook the entire building. The camera's view was jostled briefly from the impact before it was abruptly cut off, turning to a static gray.

Sasakibe reached over and switched the projection off, picking the device up from the Soutaichou's desk. He silently stood beside the wooden furniture, awaiting for his captain's orders.

Yamamoto stoically stared ahead with his eyes shut in thought. A minute went by in thick silence. Eventually, the head captain spoke, dismissing his loyal lieutenant from his side. The aged man slowly rose from his chair with cane in hand and made his way to the open balcony in the office. It offered a wide, expansive view of the entire Seireitei. With a stern, hardened gaze, he looked over the many streets and buildings, able to get a glimpse of the scene of destruction in the distance that was causing him so much trouble.

Doubts were rising in his mind. From what he had just witnessed, the mission was looking to be more of a suicide than a retrieval. His fears had been confirmed.

He had basically sent his officers straight to their deaths.

* * *

A lone figure clad in black laid motionless on the fine, white sand. No other form of life could be seen within miles of the orange-haired Shinigami. His eyes were closed, face the picture of serenity, a stark contradiction to his usual scowling expression that adorned his features.

His peaceful demeanor was disrupted when the teen's tranquil face scrunched up in strained effort. He moaned softly from an unknown discomfort as he futilely tried to pry his eyes open. His eyelids parted after the third attempt and allowed him a glance at his blurry surroundings.

He was only able to make out colors at first. The basic white and black of the scenery blended into a murky gray at the edges where they met, churning together haphazardly. His vision was a cloudy kaleidoscope of swirls, giving him a sharp headache. To stop the world from spinning, the young man shut his eyes tight, fighting against a sudden wave of nausea that overcame him.

Once he managed to calm his queasy stomach, the Shinigami cautiously opened his eyes again. This time, he was met with a stilled landscape that he could easily focus on. The bleak scenery he saw confused him since his mind was not able to fully wrap around what he was seeing. However, after the few seconds it took for his memory to kick in, he was able to recognize where he was. The stagnant air that never held even the slightest of breezes and the familiar feel of the white grains on his hands and face registered in his senses. The encompassing darkness enveloped nearly half his sight with the only source of light – the ever present crescent moon hanging in the night sky – staunching the nearly suffocating black, all brought forth his past memories. He knew where he was.

This was Hueco Mundo, the land of hollows.

"Wh… what?" rasped Ichigo, voice hoarse from disuse. He slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting on his legs to make sure he was seeing everything correctly. "How did I get here?"

The last thing he could remember was the concrete walls of twelfth division prison and being dragged away. Then… then things started to become blurred. He could not recall what happened after he was brought from his cell, but he felt like he should have; that there was something important he should remember. Why had he been in the twelfth division anyways? It had something to do with his hollow, right?

In a burst, he remembered the events after. Entering Mayuri's lab, seeing all the beakers and bottles and being cuffed to the metal table. His hollow had taken over when Kurotsuchi was about to inject him with some type of glowing fluid. But that was it. Everything after that was blank; empty space where memories should have been. This type of blank was typical for whenever he lost control. It made sense. When his hollow was in control, he would be the one experiencing everything while he was left in the darkness of his own consciousness. In truth, he did not want to know what he missed in the time his counterpart was on the outside running rampant. He already had nightmares about the small fragments he did get. The full thing would only serve to send him over the deep end.

Now, why was he here anyways? It was blatantly obvious that his hollow was the one that brought him here since he had no reason or ability to. The question was  _why?_  Surely the demon had some ulterior motive behind his actions or else there would be no purpose in coming here. What that could possibly be, he had no clue. Or, was it on instinct? Hollows were creatures purely driven by their primal instincts, so maybe he came here on just that, feeling the need to be with his own kind. It made some sort of sense if he thought about it.

Ichigo shook his head, moving so he was sitting cross-legged. No, it could not be as simple as that. He hated to admit it, but that  _thing_  was smart. Smart enough to not be solely influenced by simple instincts to 'go home.' The idea of it all was ludicrous.

The teen put a hand to his head to massage his temples, but was surprised and confused to find that parts of his hair were stiff and sticky to the touch. He pulled his hand back and was shocked to see red covering his tanned, callused skin. It was by no means a small amount either. Practically his entire torso was covered in gore, soaking the fabric. It was a wonder how he was unaware of it all before now.

With a startled shriek, he tore off the top part of his hakama and frantically threw it. It left him shirtless, but that was the least of his worries. All he wanted was to get the defiled garment away from him as fast as possible.

Even without his soiled top, he still felt tainted. Blood was covering his hands and even his hair, but he could do next to nothing about either. He would have to regretfully deal with it. Ichigo wrapped his arms around his bare torso, shaking. It was not from the piercing cold of the endless night, but from fear; pure terror of the unknown. The amount of blood sticking to him belonged to more than one person. How many people had to die in order for him to be  _soaked_ in gore?

This was all his hollow's fault. That vile beast must have had its fun running amok in the Seireitei for who knows how long. Most of the Shinigami there save for a select few had no idea how dangerous and brutal the hollow even was. None would stand a chance. They would have been lambs willingly running to the slaughter without a clue as to the power they were facing. The dreadful question that continued to plague his mind was just how many were killed in order for his inner monster to have his fill? How many innocent people faced their deaths at his blood-stained hands? He was not sure if he wanted to know the answer to that daunting question.

No, he reasoned, the amount of lives lost because of him was not a number he wished to know. He was fairly certain that he might not be able to handle the answer.

An image flashed before his eyes in a blinding burst, slow enough for him to clearly decipher. It was a clip from a brutal battle. Mangled corpses littered the ground and building structures were destroyed. From his perspective, the body closest to him was the main focus of the scene. The man's body - disemboweled and pale – seemed to be looking straight at him. His cerulean-green eyes were dull, reflecting one final image before losing all their shine. A man in a white mask with eyes of gold surrounded in black was mirrored. The bright orange on his head contrasted with the otherwise dark demeanor and diabolical grin. And then the image disappeared just as it had come.

Ichigo's breath quickened. He held his head tightly in his trembling hands, trying to grasp what he saw. His brown eyes were wide and unseeing, staring at the sand in front of him unfocusedly as he remembered each and every detail of the violent scene burned into his mind.

This could not be happening.

The frantic Shinigami took in quick gasps as he started to rock back and forth. It was all getting to him, that much was plain to see. He needed to calm down since he was practically hyperventilating.

He forced his body to slowly inhale through his nose and out his mouth. In and out. In and out. Slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. There was no point in making his situation even worse by having a mental breakdown or fainting.

After an agonizingly long minute, Ichigo managed to calm his speeding heart and lungs. He needed to address his situation with a more leveled, logical approach and not freak at every little thing as he was currently.

Now that he thought about it, maybe being in Hueco Mundo was for the best. Yes, he was literally a dimension away from anyone that could potentially help him, but here he had next to no chance of hurting anyone since they were all in the Soul Society or the world of the living. The only signs of life were other hollows usually miles apart from each other and it was not of any consequence if the few of them that managed to cross his path were killed. Neither did it matter if he lost control again since his hollow could eagerly take his need for battle out on any of the creatures present in this barren land. In all honesty, ending up in Hueco Mundo was perfect for both the safety of everyone and to satisfy his hollow's lust for blood.

Looking back, he wondered why he did not think of coming to Hueco Mundo sooner, especially with the smaller incidents happening more frequently when he was still in Karakura. Back then, he would have random incidents where he would black out without warning even when in his human body. He would usually come to a couple of minutes, even hours, later, laying on the ground in a different place, sometimes in his Shinigami form. He could never recall what had happened either, which disturbed him greatly. Just what was his hollow doing while in control? What were his goals? He could never figure it out no matter how hard he pondered the matter.

So many lives could have been saved if he had gone to the hollow realm sooner. At least he could consider himself fortunate that his family was never hurt when he was first starting to lose control. One of the more recent incidents had caused him to fear for their safety.

One night, he had woken blearily from a strange dream only to find that he was standing in his sisters' room. His hand was extended towards Yuzu's thin, frail neck, about to close around it. As soon as he had regained his senses, he had dashed out of the room in a blind panic, running to his own down the hall. He had immediately locked the door and curled into a corner farthest from it. The rest of the night, he had not been able to get a wink of sleep, scared that he would wake up to find his sisters' dead bodies laying at his feet.

If he had not been summoned to the Soul Society when he was, then things could have turned out very differently. His family could have  _died_  by his hands. That was  _not_  something he wanted to dwell on.

A sudden, shrill squeak caused Ichigo to nearly jump a foot in the air from surprise. Instinctively, he reached behind his back to grasp the nearly always present hilt of his zanpakuto only to find nothing. After a quick glance to his side, he found his trusted weapon partially buried in the sand a few feet away from him and hastily grabbed it, ready to attack. He snapped his head over to the source of the sound and was a little more than surprised at what he saw.

A hollow – lizard-like in appearance – stood atop of a small rock. The creature could have been no more than a foot in length if that. Its mask had a single thin, light gray stripe going down the center with the rest of its body's rough scales being a slightly darker shade. Currently, the petite hollow was hissing at the threatening figure before it, being within its territory uninvited.

Ichigo blinked questioningly at the lizard, his body still tense to attack. He finally relaxed once he realized that the creature posed absolutely no threat and sat back down. A light blush tinted his cheeks as he thought about how he had overreacted. He was basically ready to fire a Getsuga Tenshou at the tiny hollow and all it had done was squeak. It was embarrassing. He was glad that no one else was around to see that. He knew that if Renji were here, he would be having a heyday and would never let him live it down.

The teen gave a deep, tired sigh. He was completely exhausted, feeling weary all the way to his bones. At his shaky exhale, the small lizard tensed before tilting its head to the side in curiosity. Its thick tail thumped twice against the rock it perched on, growling throatily. With one final thwack, the hollow stopped and made a soft clicking noise. It turned away from Ichigo and sat comfortably on its rock, deeming the uninvited guest as safe to be in its presence.

A slight smile appeared on the chocolate-eyed teen's lips at the creature's actions. The way it was behaving was kind of cute. However, he was derailed from that train of thought when he was hit full on by an unexpected feeling. It originated in his gut and gnawed at his insides.

_Hunger._

This was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His insides burned and writhed, twisted into knots and tore apart. He gasped involuntary as the pain caused him to double over. The lizard-like hollow squealed as it was startled by his abrupt movement. One arm wrapped around his midsection and the other clasped over his mouth. He felt as though he could throw up at any point. But, contrastingly, he was willing to eat anything –  _anything_  – to quell this insatiable hunger that was attacking him so ruthlessly.

' _ **Anything, huh? Are ya sure about that?'**_

His labored breathe hitched in his throat at the doubled voice echoing in his head. This was the last thing he needed to deal with right now.

"Go…. away," Ichigo forced out, "I don't need you here… You've caused me… enough trouble already… so beat it!" Talking was becoming difficult to do through his pain.

' _ **Ah King. I'm hurt,'**_  the hollow said mockingly. Ichigo could practically  _see_  the fake pout in his voice. _ **'An' I was gonna be generous an' tell ya what the hell was happenin' ta ya.'**_

That made the orangette pause before he whipped out a retorted. His hollow gave a brief chuckle to this.

' _ **That's what I thought,'**_  he chided, _ **'Hollows are creatures driven mainly by only one desire. It's a common instinct that we all share. Care ta guess what it is?'**_  the demon paused for only a second before he continued,  _ **'**_ **Souls.** _ **All hollows have a deep,**_ **burning** _ **hunger for them. It's what that pang in yer stomach is.'**_

Ichigo's eyes widened in realization.  _That_  was what this horrible feeling was? He was craving souls? That could not be possible. He was a  _Shinigami_ , not a  _hollow._  Therefore he should not be having the same voiding hunger as one of those twisted monsters. It simply was not possible!

' _ **Stop tryin' ta convince yerself that it ain't true, 'cause ya know it is. Besides, yer logic is pretty weak. Yer basically a hollow now,**_ **King** _ **, an' I'll prove it ta ya even if I have ta give ya a little push,'**_  the hollow said ruefully.

Ichigo was confused at first to the intentions behind the hollow's words. But it was soon made clear when a large wave of the hollow's reiatsu rapidly coursed through his body. The opposing power supercharged his nerves, making them flare. The stabbing hunger in his stomach intensified to the point where he felt as if his intestines were being ripped out by serrated claws. He unwillingly let out a yelp, falling to his side and curling into the fetal position.

It was becoming too much. He could not handle the pain for much longer. It ate away at his will power like acid. The hollow's reiatsu raged inside of him and he nearly screamed out from the pure torture of it all.

Then, it was gone. The burning washed away from his muscles and stomach, leaving only a numbing ache in its wake. A fog settled over his mind, clouding his thoughts and blurring his vision slightly at the edges. One single, simple thought still remained crystal clear despite this; one that he could in no way ignore.

Satisfy his hunger. Fill the void.  _Now._

The black clad youth rose from the ground to his hands and knees in one fluid motion. His unruly orange locks shrouded his eyes in dark shadows, but the haze that filmed them was plainly seen. The lizard - still faithfully guarding its perch – hissed angrily at the figure's change in demeanor, tail thumping wildly against the rock.

Ichigo's clouded eyes rolled over to the irritated hollow, his breathes steady and level. In a flash, he grabbed the small creature with a swipe of his hand, eliciting a startled squeal from the masked lizard. It squirmed fitfully in his firm grasp as it tried to get free, but it was all futile. The man's grip help steady, not allowing the creature to wriggle even an inch of its body out. In a desperate attempt to escape, it bite down on its captor's tanned, red-stained hand with its sharp, tiny teeth. They carved into his flesh and a small stream of blood fell from the wound. The entranced teen did not so much as flinch at the action.

The lizard growled menacingly, shrieking around the thick skin entrapped in its mouth. Although it was acting bravely, the creature's large, round eyes were swimming in barely restrained terror. It knew the position it was in. It held no power when faced with such an imposing threat.

Ichigo faltered slightly when he saw those fear-filled orbs behind the stripped mask, loosening his grip enough for the hollow to make a renewed effort to escape. He snapped back to his unfocused haze in the next second, eyes hardening and losing any light they might have regained.

Opening his maw wide, Ichigo shoved the head of the hollow in and snapped his jaw shut. The lizard's body below the neck seized and twitched for a few brief seconds before falling limp in the substitute's hand, tail swishing slightly.

The small, gray body slowly disintegrated into black particles. The specks floated into the air and dispersed, disappearing from sight. In less than half a minute, the entire body was gone, leaving Ichigo to grasp at nothing but a memory.

He was frozen in place. Not a muscle was moved even by a fraction from where he was, still as a statue. His eyes were half-lidded and glazed, unblinking as he stared off into the distance. He stayed exactly like this for a while, exactly how long was impossible to say.

Finally, light seeped back into his coffee colored eyes, bringing life to his deep, brown pools. He gasped, hands flying to his mouth in absolute horror. He felt his stomach - previously aching for something to fill it now sated - flip violently.

"Wh-what… did I just do?" he whispered aghast, "I… I…  _ate_  that hollow?!" Saying the gruesome truth out loud seemed to be the trigger. His stomach gave another lurch and all its contents surged up his throat, spilling onto the crystalline sand.

Instead of having the repulsive taste of vomit coat his tongue, Ichigo had the coppery taste of blood fill his mouth. Confused and concern for his own health, he looked down at the mess and gasped in shock. It was all blood.  _Blood._  Small chunks of flesh floated in the life-sustaining liquid, torn and shredded. The mere sight of it all coupled with the stench hitting him full force made him throw up again, adding more gore to the mix already in front of him.

Coughing harshly after his bout finished, he instantly crawled as fast as he could in his current state away from the puddle. Never before had he been so completely stricken with dread. He had no idea that his hollow had been  _eating_  people –  _other humans_  – when he rampaged. Has he ever done this before? If so, how many times has he done it without Ichigo knowing?

The substitute gave a low whimper at his thoughts, feeling his insides writhe painfully.

Ichigo tried to force his shaking form to stop without success. His whole body was trembling. How could he have done such a thing? He had  _eaten_  other living creatures  _alive_. It mattered not that he had vomited everything he had managed to ingest. What he had done could not be reversed. It pained him even more to know that the searing hunger he had previously felt was essentially gone, now only a dull discomfort that could easily be shoved to the side of his mind and forgotten. The fact that what he had just done  _satisfied_  his hunger was completely devastating.

"You're a monster. How could you make me do that?!" Ichigo screeched, addressing the demon cackling in his head, "It's sick and twisted, even for you!" His stomach gave another powerful lurch, but he was able to settle it this time.

A round of snickers was the only response he got before the hollow was able to stifle his chuckles and talk.  _ **'Ya think eatin' a puny lizard is bad? That's pathetic King.'**_

"Not just the hollow! What about all that… b-blood that was in  _my stomach!?"_  he screamed.

' _ **I was hungry so I took a couple of bites ta eat on the go. Nothin' wrong with that.'**_

Ichigo gave a throaty growl and was about to retort, but the hollow continued to speak,  _ **'An' just ta clear somethin' up,**_ **I** _ **didn't make ya eat that pathetic excuse fer a hollow. That was all**_ **you.** _ **All I did was give ya a little… push ta get ya movin' in that direction. Yer instincts did the rest.'**_

" _My_  instincts?" the Shinigami asked incredulously, "What are you talking about? I don't have any hollow instincts." At least as far as he knew.

' _ **See**_ **Ichigo,'**  he spat his name with hate,  _ **'That's where yer wrong. Ya do. Well, they are my instincts really, if ya wanna get technical.'**_

"You aren't making any sense."

' _ **Do I really have ta spell it out fer ya?'**_  he sighed dramatically, a sound truly strange when coupled with the echoing undertones,  _ **'You've noticed how yer control has been gettin' weaker each day, courtesy of moi, right? That's because yer hold on yer body's crumbling. My more powerful, stronger reiatsu is slowly becoming dominant an' seeping into yer system bit by bit. Right now, my reiatsu is startin' ta overtake yers and with it comes some of my more basic hollow traits. Which includes instincts an' the need ta feed on other hollows and souls.'**_

"What… how is that possible?" Ichigo muttered more to himself, shocked at the news. He was basically becoming a hollow and he could do nothing to stop it. Urahara might have known what to do, but he obviously was not here to help. The shopkeeper probably had no idea that Ichigo was even in this predicament, although he would admit that he would not be surprised if he in fact did. That man knew absolutely everything.

' _ **Ya haven't even heard the best part yet! I don't have ta do anythin' now an' yer still gonna become a hollow. It's only a matter of time now King before that body of yers is mine and you become the Horse,'**_  the hollow said with ravenous glee.

Fumbling to get up from the loose ground, the distraught teen took up pacing back and forth on the pristine sand. He needed to move, to do  _something_  to distract him even in the slightest and this seemed to be his best and only option right now.

He was clutching his head – aching from the stress of the previous events – as he paced the length from one small rock to another. Back and forth. Turn, walk, turn, walk. Twelve steps each way. He counted the numbers each time, trying to direct his focus on the rhythmically repeated numbers instead of his chaotic thoughts.

It barely helped. His mind was still aimed to think only about his predicament.

"What do I do? What do I do?" he rasped in thought over and over like a mantra. He could feel his breathing start to speed up again against his will. "I could go back to Karakura so Urahara could help me."

' _ **How are ya gonna do that? Ya can't open a Garganta so that's not happenin' any time soon,'**_  was his hollow's snide comment. He was rather enjoying messing with the youth in this state.

"Maybe I could go back to the Soul Society. They might come to retrieve me since there was probably a lot of damage and they wouldn't want me running loose. They should be able to contain me if I lose control again," he continued to reason.

' _ **Not gonna work!~'**_  the creature sung,  _ **'If they couldn't handle me back then, how are they gonna now?'**_

"Then I'll fight you! I beat you once before, I can do it a second time!" he resolved in dismay. He honestly did not know any more if he was trying to be brave to fool his hollow or himself.

' _ **Please. Yer even more stupid than I thought if ya think you'll be able ta defeat me again. I'm more powerful than the last time we fought. You don't even stand a chance.'**_

"I… I…" Ichigo stopped pacing and stared at the ground, defeated, "I don't know what to do…"

' _ **Well, it's been fun tormentin' ya fer now, but it's time fer the real show ta begin,'**_  said the devilish being with a smirk in his voice.

"Show?" Ichigo questioned having not the faintest idea what his hollow was talking about now in the slightest. He did not have much time to contemplate the matter before the burning hunger hit him full force, coming back with a vengeance.

He instantly crumpled to the ground with a yell, knees giving out and his body caving in on itself. The last thing he heard from the hollow in his head was a deep laughter that slowly receded as the demon retreated to the recesses of his mind to watch his work play out.

Ichigo could feel his thoughts quickly being blurred and his vision beginning to fade. It was happening again. He would lose all control over his actions and basically act as a hollow until he became one physically as well. He  _could not_  let that happen.

With every ounce of his being, he fought against the fog that threatened to consume his body and mind. He pushed back, fighting with all his strength, ignoring the stabbing pains coming from his stomach and brain. He was determined; he would not lose this time.

He was gaining ground, clearing his mind from the all-consuming haze slowly but steadily. The agonizing pain in his abdomen lessened, allowing him to focus more on controlling his thoughts. He might actually be able to win and not fall victim to the hollow instincts fighting for dominance.

A surge of dark energy rushed through his body without warning, causing him to lose his advantage he had worked so hard for. With his mind thrown off by the sudden assault, the fog was able to rush forward, entrapping his consciousness in a dense haze too thick for any logical thought to penetrate. Once more, the primal thought raced to the forefront of his mind.

_Eat._

The orange-haired vizard slid his eyes open, previously closed from the intense pain. They were completely blank; void of all light. The color had changed from the normal soft chocolate to a murky gold tinted with specks of bronze. There was no sign of emotion hidden within the deep orbs.

In slow, jerky movements, the teen lifted his body from the white, sandy ground. He stood awkwardly, back slightly arched, shoulders slouched and arms dangling limply. He tilted his head to the side and reached his senses out in search for his next meal. He stayed in this position, unmoving, for over a minute.

His body tensed as he located his target far off in the distance. Bending down, he quickly swiped his forgotten zanpakuto from the ground. It was held loosely in his grip, the tip nearly scraping the sand.

Ichigo started walking in an unknown direction. He took five steps at the most before he disappeared in a burst of sonido, the crackly noise of static accompanying the abrupt departure. The loose granules of sand flew into the air at the movement, slowly swirling before floating back down. A cold, dark laughter faded into the distance.

And just like that, the boy was gone, leaving the home of the solitary lizard-like hollow deserted, never to be returned to or inhabited ever again.

The land of the hollows was in for a big surprise.


	5. The Change

" _There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction."_

_-Winston Churchill_

* * *

A wet, black nose sniffed the ground. The hot, quick breaths caused small clouds of white sand to puff up around the creature's face. It rose its head quickly, slitted eyes scouring the area for any movement. Something was here. Where, it did not yet know, but it would soon find out. Shoulders tense and split tail flicking in the air, it waited; ready for the right moment to pounce on its next victim. It mattered not how long it took. Hours or minutes; it made no difference. Any sign of food in this land was rare. There was no way that it would pass up such a fortunate opportunity for a quick meal. It was a predator after all. It would kill anything to survive.

In the corner of its eye, a flash of movement caught its attention. It whipped its head in the direction, every muscle coiled tight. Nothing met its fierce gaze, only more of the continually endless sand. On silent paws sporting wicked claws, the hollow stalked forward. With each carefully placed step, its body gravitated closer to the ground until it nearly glided across the sand like a snake.

A small cluster of speckled white rocks protruded from the ground, closely blending with the surroundings. The creature spotted at least five lizards, each adorning a small mask, huddled under a crevice in one of the larger rocks in an attempt to hide. As an imposing shadow loomed over the hiding place, they bolted, scampering away in different directions for the lives.

In a flash, the hollow was after them, maneuvering this way and that to catch the little morsels. Two of the lizards that ran in the same direction were both caught by their vicious pursuer, trapped under its powerful paws. No amount of squealing or desperate squirming did any good.

One of the lizards was gone in a single gulp; eaten whole. The next was bitten in half, each part of its wriggling body swallowed in haste. With his latests meal devoured, the creature turned to where the others were in the hope of catching more. But all it was only able to glimpse the vanishing tails of the small creatures as they burrow deep into the hard sand away from the reach of any predator.

The hollow irritatedly growled at the event's outcome, displeased that it did not get a larger meal for all its efforts. But at least he was able to gain something from this endeavor. That had been, after all, the first food it had in weeks.

Licking its lips, the hollow walked off in search of its next meal. It continually sniffed at the air and ground, trying to find where the weaker hollows were at that it could possibly defeat. It could sense by the scent how powerful other hollows were. The stronger ones it knew to stay away from. Such creatures would be able to end its existence in a heartbeat if it ever got too close. The weaker ones, however, it could take down with ease. The only problem was that they were few and far between on the surface of this desolate world where only few dared to venture.

So far, it was having no luck finding any weaker hollows nearby. There were no strong hollows for that matter either. Nothing was within fifty miles of its position. It huffed in annoyance, not looking forward to having to search aimlessly for food for days or weeks  _again._

Sitting back on its haunches, the beast decided to take a small rest before it continued hunting. It rested its head on its large paws, closing its eyes for a brief moment. Its tranquil peace did not last long.

Surrounded by the comforting blackness, the hollow's senses were pricked ever so slightly by an outside presence before vanishing. That was all it took for the hollow to become alert instantly, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. Its ears perked as it cautiously lifted itself up, moving into a fighting position on its lithe paws.

Searching for where the mysterious presence disappeared to, it was not able to pick up even the smallest trace of it by sense or smell. It did not matter how hard it concentrated, it found nothing. This situation did not feel right. Beings, no matter what kind, did not simply disappear. It  _did not_  happen. Not in Hueco Mundo. Especially if a particular defenseless one, such as it was for a less than a minute, was nearby.

Its slitted eyes combed the barren landscape carefully. On a faraway hill, something shimmered into existance. Immediately, the hollow's eyes locked onto it. The figure made no movements, standing absolutely still on the hilltop next to a petrified tree. The pale moon hanging forever in the cold night sky was positioned almost directly behind the being, casting it into dull shadows from the weak light, making it impossible for the hollow to make out any details of the figure from its position.

The figure on the hilltop made no move, keeping perfectly still. It seemed to be a humanoid creature in appearance with hair long enough to sway in the light breeze.

Still in its position to fight or run from where it stood, the hollow tentatively sniffed at the air, trying to get any sort of reading on who or what was in its sight. Its wet nostrils flared, taking in the scents in the area in one deep breath. At first, it could not determine how powerful the entity that it faced was. Not even the smallest trace was found in the air. Then, all at once, its senses were assaulted by a power so fierce that the hollow shuddered, muscles tensing and straining in order to keep upright and not fall to the sand.

It took an involuntary step backwards, body eager to get away from the being possessing this incredible strength. Its eyes never strayed from the monstrosity, making sure that it made no move that it was unaware of. The entity was a threat; a threat to its entire existence. If it did not escape before it took notice of its presence, then it might have a chance at hunting another day.

With slow, cautious, and carefully placed steps, the hollow gradually backed away from the small hill. If it were to increase the distance enough, then it would have the opportunity to make a break for it, hopefully without the potential predator taking notice. As long as it was out of range of the being's senses, then it would be free.

The hollow, still having its gaze locked on the figure, blinked. However, that was all it took for it to lose sight of what was on the hilltop. The spot the entity used to occupy was empty, leaving the hill barren save for the lone crystal tree. The petrified stone plant unexpectedly burst into pieces not a second after the figure vanished, not able to withstand the pure force the being had used simply to leave at such incredible speeds.

Eyes wide and panicked, the hollow whipped its head around in every direction, desperate to find the creature that had such destructive capabilities. Its tail flicked anxiously as it waited for an attack. Everywhere it looked, the hollow only found more desolate, white emptiness. No signs of the monster. Perhaps it had found another prey more worthy of its taste to hunt. It may be able to live another day; to be the hunter and not the hunted again.

With apprehensive caution, the hollow turned around to find a safer place to rest and get further away from the powerful foe. Right as it fully twisted, it found itself looking into the murky gold eyes of the humanoid figure it had been watching from afar. It froze instantly; terrified to move in the presence of this unknowingly powerful opponent. Its soulless eyes bore deep into its own, seeming to see its every thought and fear.

Without warning, the orange haired being shot forward and took the hollow's long muzzle in his hand. He shoved its head down into the pristine sand with such force that a small crater formed around where the hollow impacted.

More than slightly dazed from the swift and sudden attack, the hollow wearily regained its footing in haste. It brandished its claws, tail adorning several large spikes in preparation to make an offensive strike. If it was going to die, it would go down fighting.

The hollow struck quickly with its deadly tail, forcing its opponent to jump to the side out of reach. The being stood back up with back hunched, growling lowly in a threatening manner that put the hollow's fur on end. Before it could react, the creature pinned his prey to the cold ground on its back, unable to escape. The next instance, the hollow felt a crippling pain unlike any other it experienced before in its many battles pierce through its core.

Ichigo yanked his sword out of the creature's middle, tossing it aside as blood splashed across the sand, dying it a rich cherry red. He watched for a moment in sick enjoyment as the hollow vainly fought for air before diving into his meal. He devoured mouthful after mouthful of the precious flesh in swift succession, ignoring the rapidly fading protests of his victim as it tried in vain to move away. It knew it was going to die. This was the end for it. Its last thoughts faded away as the hollow's vision dimmed in a soft, white light.

Another viscous chunk of flesh slid down his burning throat, further easing the pain in his stomach more with each blissful bite. He was about to return to his feast for another euphoric taste when his meal rapidly broke down into black particles, drifting away into the endless night sky. An irritated growl escaped his lips as another perfect meal slipped through his grasp before he could finish. He was left covered in a thick layer of hot blood caking his pale face and hands.

At least what he was able to devour would appease his hunger for a short time. He only hoped that he would be able to locate more tender morsels before it came back again with a fierce vengeance. In one smooth motion, Ichigo raised his body while grabbing his discarded zanpakutou. He began to tread the disheveled land again in search for more scarce food.

As he walked, his glazed eyes gradually regained some of their shine, shifting to a darker shade of brown than the previous gold. His footsteps faltered before coming to a complete halt. One hand shakily rose to his mouth while the other wrapped tightly around his middle.

"Oh god..." he muttered, "No, not again." His legs buckled underneath him, his hands shooting out in front, desperate for balance. He landed hard on his knees and palms, both burning from the small granules stinging exposed flesh. In a jerky movement, Ichigo managed to situate himself in an upright sitting position with a soft hiss, legs sprawled around his form.

"No…" A small shake of the head. "No…" Bloodied fingers weaved into dirty, matted hair, gripping the clumped strands tightly. "No." Glistening eyes widened, panic rapidly encasing them. "No." His body slowly folded into itself. "No!" He began to tremble uncontrollably. " _No!_ "

He  _screamed_. Every emotion he usually tried to bottle up was released; all the anger, hate, resentment, frustration,  _fear_ , and the horrifying  _satisfaction_  that pierced his very core filled the air. It had been an endless cycle he was forced to endure; his hollow would force his will on him, making him become more of a monstrous hollow than a human hunt whatever hollow was nearby. He would eat whatever unfortunate creature he came upon until he was satisfied or itto broke down its spiritual particles, and then his senses would come flooding back, leaving him to realize what he had done. Then, the cycle would repeat itself. Lather, rinse, repeat.

He did not feel any pity for the creatures' deaths. Although a pang of sympathy never failed to pierce him. They were hollows after all, but it was the fact that he was eating them -  _eating them_  – that sickened him. The thought caused him stomach to flip, threatening to spill over for the umpteenth time, but Ichigo managed to keep it calmed. He had learned that if he did vomit, then he would lose his sense of self and humanity faster than if he let the revolting contents remain in his stomach.

In reality, the cycle had only repeated a handful of times, but it was more than enough to push Ichigo to the edge of insanity. He did not know how much more he could take. It was never-ending torture that he was sure would force the thin cracks in his psyche to spread until he shattered. And it  _terrified him_. How much longer would it be? How many more times did he have to suffer through this living nightmare before he broke and his hollow governed his body while he rotted in the deepest, darkest corners of his inner world? He would never see the light of day again; left to his own chaotic, self-loathing thoughts as his hollow walked in his skin, taking on his identity as he slaughtered his friends, family, and anyone that crossed his path.

A brilliant spark of rage ignited in Ichigo at the thought. He could not give in to his personal demon and let the monster kill  _his_  friends and  _his_  family. He had  _no right_. None. He – no,  _it_  – deserved to be thrown back to his inner world where it belonged; locked away with the key tossed.

"You…" he began, voice shaking in fury as much as his body, "You won't get away with this. I won't let you win."

He waited in tense silence for a response, but got nothing. He expected something; a chuckle, a quick retort from his silver tongue, a snark comment. Absolutely nothing was definitely not what he expected and it left him fuming.

"Hey, I know you can hear me!" Still no reply. His mind was void of any sound. "Of course the one time I actually  _want_  to talk to you, you aren't there." Ichigo slowly deflated, his anger seeping out of him as the depressing atmosphere from before came crashing down on him.

' _ **Aw, poor little**_ _ **K**_ _ **ing,'**_  the echoing voice purred, jolting Ichigo from his thoughts.  _ **'Y**_ _ **a**_ _ **ready to give up**_ _ **so soon**_ _ **?'**_

The teen growled low in his throat, teeth grinding together. "Never! I said I'd never let you win!"

' _ **That was clique. This ain't a movie ya know. The good doesn't conquer evil in an epic, glorious battle**_ _ **and y**_ _ **a don't get a happy endin'**_ _ **,**_ _ **'**_  the hollow commented slyly,  _ **'This, happenin' right**_ _ **noow**_ _ **, is**_ **real life.** _ **Ya can't escape it by tryin' ta convince yerself that ya have**_ **any** _ **chance against me.'**_

"You cocky bastard!" His hands clenched in frustration. "I… That's not true! I can beat you. You're just not… not… Urg! I don't have to explain myself to the likes of  _you_."

' _ **Oh**_ _ **K**_ _ **ing, I'm hurt,'**_  said the hollow in a mocking tone, _ **'An' there's no way ya can beat me. Last time ya barely did, so what makes ya think ya can do it now? Yer in no state ta fight an'**_ **I'm stronger than you.** _ **Stronger than the last time we fought by far. Ya don't stand a**_ **chance in hell** _ **against me. I'm enjoyin' the show fer now, but that's only 'cause I wanna watch you**_ _ **suffer and squirm**_ _ **before I dethrone ya fer good. Once ya br**_ _ **eak**_ _ **– once yer soul's been shattered into so many pieces that it's only dust, then I'll be the one in control havin' my fun.'**_

The monster's maniacal, terrible laughter bounced off the walls of Ichigo's mind, drowning out his thoughts in the piercing echo. He slammed his hands against his ears to stop the noise before his head split in two, eyes squeezed tight. As the laughter faded away, Ichigo slowly opened his eyes, glaring fiercely at a random spot in the nearly uniform sand. "Is that what you want then?  _Fine!_ Let's fight. Just you and me. No cheap, sick tricks like making me basically turn into a hollow. Let's fight and I'll show you how wrong you are! I'll beat you just like I did last time if that's what it's going to take to stop you!"

The hollow gave a non-comical snort.  _ **'Ya can't seriously believe**_ _ **the**_ _ **shit yer spoutin'. I'm not gonna waste my time tryin' ta convince ya**_ _ **of how conceited and idiotic you are since**_ _ **it's obviously pointless. You. Are.**_ **Weak,"**  he emphasized each word with venom lacing his voice,  _ **'An' yer gonna realize it fer yerself sooner than ya think.'**_

"Hey! You bastard, what gives you the right to ruin my life?!" the orangette screamed with all his might. After the accusing words left his lips, the true meaning behind what he had said hit him. His life was, practically,  _ruined._  No, it was more than ruined. It was  _destroyed_ ; damaged beyond repair. He would never –  _never_  – be able to go back to the world of the living again. The Soul Society would be searching for him; out for his life. Everywhere he would or could go, they would be there looking for him. Nowhere would be safe and no one he knew or ever came into contact with would be either. After everything he did, all the lives he had taken – if it was him or his hollow, it didn't matter to them. It was all the same in the end. There would be no possible way that the Soul Society would forgive him, as ridiculous as that sounded. He was basically a walking corpse at this point, doomed to die by their hands or by the ruthless land of this world.

He would never be able to see his family or friends again. That revelation made his heart feel like it was pierced with ice. They were his whole life; the reason he fought to protect those he cared for with his entire being. Karin, Yuzu, his dad, Chad, Uryuu, Orihime, Rukia, Renji. He would never be able to see them again. For all he knew, the Seireitei could have captured them all, keeping them prisoner for interrogation or, even worse, torture in order to find out where he went or hold as leverage over him if he ever returned.

Ichigo brought his knees up to his chest slowly, arms wrapping around his legs and burying his head in the ripped, bloody cloth around his knees. His life was  _gone_. Was there any point in fighting back anymore if his future only held horrid hardships and death?

In a soft, barely audible whisper, the teen softly spoke, "Why are you doing this to me?" He gripped his legs tighter, knuckles turning a near translucent white. "What did I ever do to you to have you torture me like this?"

He was not sure what kind of retort he was expecting from the hollow. Perhaps a jab at how vulnerable and weak he was acting. Maybe he would berate him for displaying such sappy emotions. But, what he got was nothing that he was prepared for.

Silence. His mindscape was utterly barren. Too quiet to be normal. His hollow would not pass up commenting in some way or another when presented with such a prime situation. Ichigo's stomach twisted in tight knots. He could feel that something bad was going to happen.

'…  **What?'**  came the reply at long last, hissed through clenched teeth. The pure anger, fury, and  _hate_  behind the one word sent a spike of fear racing down Ichigo's back. He tried to shrink away from the voice, hugging his knees closer to his chest, but he did not allow himself to be frightened away by simple inflection of tone.

"I said, why are you doing this?" he repeated, voice level and calm save for a slight nervous quiver. "Why have you always wanted to make my life a living hell without reason?"

A few quiet seconds passed before the hollow whispered with a menacingly dark voice,  _ **'**_ **Why** _ **am**_ _ **I doing this to you?'**_ his accent had lessened, indicating just how serious he was,  _ **'You wanna know**_ **why?** _ **Are you**_ **shittin' me!?** _ **How do you not know why? Are you that**_ _ **arrogant**_ _ **; that ignorant of everything that goes on around you?!'**_

"I… what?" Ichigo stuttered, taken aback by his hollow's sudden change in demeanor. He had never heard him act even remotely close to this before.

' _ **Don't 'what' me! Do you honestly not have**_ _ **any**_ _ **clue what you've done?'**_  Heavy, irritated breathing filled his head,  _ **'Fine,'**_  the furious being stated with a tone of finality,  _ **'If you really don't know, then I'll show you.**_ **'**

Before the teen had time to question what he meant, an uncomfortable pressure began building in his chest to the point that it hurt. It was like someone had his heart in a grip made of ice with cold claws digging into his flesh. In the next moment, he felt a sharp tug and his vision went black.

Everything around him was encompassed in darkness. He could not see anything, not even his hand in front of his face. He felt like he was falling, hearing the air wiz by his ears in a deafening roar. It was not long before his vision was engulfed, blinding his sight in white before becoming distinguished colors.

Before he had time to react, broken windows and blue, cracked concrete rose to greet him. His body crashed into the rugged surface, coming to a rough halt. With a slight moan, Ichigo hoisted his battered body up, balancing precariously on the crooked, obtruding pieces of rubble. He noticed how light his back was, missing the weight of Zangetsu constantly resting on it. Even with a quick survey of his surroundings, the weapon was not anywhere in sight.

A cold shiver dripped down his spine as an ominous, sinister presence pressed down on him from every angle. It was not solely caused by reiatsu, but the presence of something evil making his instincts kick into full throttle, screaming at him to run. Fast.

He took a deep breath, easing the tension built up in his muscles. The air stayed trapped in his lungs, filling every corner before being released in a slow and steady stream. With his resolve steeled, Ichigo pivoted on his feet, ready to face the presence.

The creature that he knew all too well.

Or so he thought.

In an instant, the black garbed Shinigami's eyes widened as he took in the drastic changes to the demon he stood across from. The white individual reflected his own outfit of tattered, ripped clothes. He had most of his hakama, but no kimono. The double's chest was exposed, covered in tribal markings from the sternum out towards the shoulders. In the center was an empty, circular hole. On his head was his hollow mask adorned with two identical bull-like horns jutting out from the sides. The mask was pulled away from his face to rest on the side of the being's head, revealing the pale face typically hidden from sight. Then, brown met yellow in a locked gaze. The hollow's eyes were dull, pained, and held only a furious rage within their depths. None of the typical glee shone through. Around the hollow was a dark, oppressive aura of malicious power, radiating off his body in thick waves. It caused the long alabaster hair to whip around in the turbulent air that it kicked up. All Ichigo could see was a ravenous beast ready to kill.

Ichigo stumbled backwards out of pure, unfiltered terror, his bare feet tripping over the uneven surfaces of the crumbling building. He had never seen this form of his hollow. Then again, he had not come face to face with him since they fought for control last time. Who knows what types of changes he had gone through during all that time. The fight with Ulquiorra came to his mind as he thought about how he never did figure out what his hollow had done to reduce the espada to that state. Perhaps what was before him was the cause.

The hollow's glare darkened immensely and he bore his teeth in a snarl. His grip on the Tensa Zangetsu at his side tightened, both bands shaking from pure fury. The hollow rounded his back, bent his knees, and launched himself through the air to his opposite.

Before the teen could react, the hollow slammed into his opponent, striking him in the chest with the butt of his sword. The teen flew back, rolling to a stop far away from where he once stood. He lay sprawled out on his back, mouth gaping open as he fought desperately for breath that had been knocked out of him. After many failed attempts, life-sustaining air flooded his lungs, leaving him gasping and coughing.

Wearily, he looked over at the hollow, but the second he set his eyes on him the demon vanished and reappeared directly in front of him with sword drawn back. Ichigo dodged to the side right as the blade met with concrete, sending a small cloud of debris to the air that lingered around the white figure.

Ichigo managed to scramble to his feet, putting some distance between him and his opponent. He desperately searched the crumbling building for anything that he could use to defend himself, but all he could see was decaying buildings. It was not a surprise, although it was disappointing all the same. Seeing nothing to aid him, the shinigami returned his attention to his hollow. The creature's breaths were coming short and hard, an audible growl accompanying each exhale.

" **Are you happy now?"**  his voice boomed through the open space of the desolate landscape. He snapped his head towards the wide-eyed teen.  **"** _ **Are you?!**_ **"**  The hollow vanished in a static burst, the dust once surrounding him dissipating in a swirl. In the next second, he stood in front of Ichigo.

Without any warning, the youth could only raise his arms up. The hollow's white blade sliced upwards, cleaving a deep line through Ichigo's midsection and arms. A splash of blood erupted from the wounds. The crimson liquid staining the pure blade dripped off in rhythmic beads.

Not allowing the burning pain to distract him, Ichigo grit his teeth and brought his fists up in a fighting position. He would be damned if he went down without even trying to put up a fight. With quick precision, he made to strike his counterpart, using all of his prior experiences, he tried to land a hit. In spite of his efforts, the youth was not able to hit his target. The pale demon effortlessly dodged each attempted strike, face set in a glare at the wasted efforts. Growing annoyed at the feeble endeavor, the hollow abruptly struck out with a well placed kick to Ichigo's abdomen right where he was wounded minutes before.

The substitute skidded backwards and was able to catch his balance, heaving for air that would not sate his scorching lungs. His vision wavered, dimming around the edges as the ground tipped in a dizzying fashion. Yet, he still tried to stand with confidence, ready for the next attack.

" **Ya really think that yer gonna be able to defeat me like this? Yer pathetic!"**  mocked the ivory devil,  **"Yer precious Zangetsu's not even willin' to help yer sorry ass, and yet ya still think you may have a chance if you give it yer all."**  He scoffed as he tossed his own Zangetsu in the air, catching it with a finger through one of the chain links. With a flick of the wrist, the weapon spun rapidly in a circle, carving a thin line into the concrete below. His eyes narrowed, mouth forming into a snarl as he watched the orange-headed teen's swaying form.  **"Yer not even worth it when yer like this."**

In one quick motion, the hollow threw the stained blade at his prey, watching it soar through the air and pierce his target directly through his stomach. The beast smirked in dark glee as Ichigo wearily looked down at the weapon imbedded in his body before he fell to his knees and to the ground on his side. Leisurely, he made his way to the fallen form, taking slow, meticulous steps before he stood beside the panting shinigami.

" **Pitiful."**  With a shove of his foot, he pushed the teen onto his back. The sword embedded in his gut was forced to slide out partially, making the orangette whimper in pain.  **"An attack like this would have never stopped ya before. Now look at ya. Yer just a pathetic, weak, foolish, sorry excuse fer a King.**

" **This is what ya wanted, wasn't it?"**  he added,  **"Ya wanted a fight, an' ya got one."**

"This… isn't… a fight," Ichigo ground out through clenched teeth. He rose to his elbows, muscles quaking from the effort. "This isn't a fair fight… You're not giving me a chance." A weak tug on the cold steel moved it minutely. Ichigo's brow furrowed, glistening with sweat.

" **It isn't fair? Huh,"**  the hollow huffed, a thoughtful look flashing onto his features,  **"Kinda like how you've treated me all those times before? When you automatically assumed I was some evil, viel, low beast incapable of any thought other than raging madness. Not fair like all the times you pushed me away after I saved your worthless life over and over? Or how about when you completely denied my help, pushing me away** _ **again**_ **even when I helped you win against that flower petal captain?"**  he seethed, eyes alight with barely restrained fury. His accent had been lost again. **"And let's not forget how it wasn't fair when you never, not even once, thought to ask if I really was trying to hurt you!"**

The heated reply left Ichigo gaping for a response, shocked at what he had been told. The hollow grasped the white hilt of his weapon still residing in the boy's abdomen and angled the edge down, making the blade carve further into its victim's soft flesh. The squelch of blood preceded the renewed flow of shimmering red, causing the teen's arms to give out as he fell back down onto to wet building.

Bending down close enough where he could feel the hot breath from his King's mouth, the hollow looked directly into his other's eyes.  **"Don't you** _ **ever**_ **talk to me about fairness since you know nothing about it."**  The blade sliced deeper.  **"Do you even know how many times I tried to call out to you? To plead with you time and time again that** _ **I was not the bad guy?**_ **But you simply couldn't have it. In your eyes, I had to be an evil monster no matter what I did to try to convince you otherwise."**

He adjusted his grip on the zanpakutou, twisting it. Ichigo wheezed in pain coughing blood that slowly traveled down his chin.  **"You didn't even consider the possibility that, maybe, I was actually trying to help!"**  he snarled, **"What about that drooling brat you found in the desert when you went to rescue that big-breasted air-head? You didn't even question her. You** _ **accepted**_ **and** _ **protected**_ **her! Why couldn't you do the same thing for me?!"**

The hollow was left panting, shaking in anger. After a few tense seconds elapsed, he scoffed and pulled the blade out of his victim's stomach, holding it loosely by his side. The porcelain metal gleamed in the light of the crumbling world, reflecting the shinigami's broken body on the ground as he lay coughing harshly.

Still staring at his opponent's crippled body, the hollow's eyes lost all their shine, leaving his visage cold and empty. **"If you had just listened to me - just given me a chance - then we wouldn't be in this position."**  He lowered his head, casting dark, foreboding shadows across his features.  **"I wouldn't have become the monster you always saw me as."**

He tightened his grip on his stained sword and raised the weapon, ready to strike.  **"Don't you dare say that this this ain't fair 'cause it's your own damn fault that all this is happening.** _ **You**_ **brought this on yourself.** _ **You deserve this!"**_

The tip of the blade shot forwards, aimed for the substitute's head. Ichigo had no time or energy to evade. Right as the zanpakutou should have split flesh and shattered bone, Ichigo's world turned into a blinding white.

The pain never came.

He waited in the encompassing light for something -  _anything_  - to happen, but nothing did. As Ichigo wondered why this was, he felt a harsh shove that nearly knocked the wind out of him. Then, he slammed back to his senses. Slowly, painfully slowly, shades of color began to decorate parts of his sight, replacing the empty white with dark tones of gray and black. Everything was tilted vertically, leading the orangette to realize that he was currently sprawled on his side in the familiar pale sand.

' _ **For everything you've done, you**_ **deserve** _ **to suffer,'**_  the hollow added before sending another crippling wave of his reiatsu through Ichigo without warning.

For a brief few seconds, Ichigo spasmed where he lay. Every cell in his body burned like hellfire. It lasted longer than the last times, but, like all the others, the pain eventually subsided. With hollow instincts in control for the time being, the shinigami rose from the ground, stalking off into the distance.

Chapped, split lips dried out by the stale air of the desert parted as a hoarse growl rumbled from his throat. Gleaming teeth reflected the light from the crescent moon above, exposing the increasing sharpness of the canines and other surrounding teeth.

Like every time previous during this nightmarish, endless night, Ichigo vanished in a static flash in search of his next victim to satisfy the insatiable hunger in his stomach.

* * *

A quiet, desolate corner of Hueco Mundo was without a single sound. It was void of everything except for the untouched granules of sand and vacant night sky. Cool, stale air pervaded the landscape, unmoving and choking from the absence of even the slightest breeze. It was a suffocating environment in its entirety despite the vast expanses, giving reason to why no life could be seen for miles in any direction.

One could go made staying here for any amount of time.

A brief sweep of wind disturbed the otherwise still environment, causing the individual particles to skid across the hard surface. Another longer burst of wind swept across the desert floor, followed by more powerful gusts one after the other that soon became chaotic bursts stirring up swirls of sand.

A bright flash illuminated the eternal night sky in a brilliant display of light, transforming into a simply, elegant set of doors. In a dramatic fashion, the doors parted, revealing another set behind them that soon opened as well. White mist escaped from the opening, crawling across the air and rolling almost on top of an invisible floor.

From the light emitted from the doorways, two sets of feet emerged. First, the individuals stepped onto the platform not existing in sight, but each immediately jumped from their place in the sky to the ground below. Their black robes fluttered in their descent, filling the air with snaps as their clothing fought against the rushing air. They gently touched down on the disturbed landscape with barely a sound. With a quick survey of their surroundings, they deemed it safe for them to relax for the moment.

Theatrical entrance finished, the two shinigami turned to each other, guards dropped slightly but never fully releasing them in case something decided to try to make a meal out of them.

"Well, we're here. Back in this dump," Renji said unenthusiastically, kicking the sand with a disappointed scowl. "Horray."

"Shut it Renji," Rukia stated breathlessly, "We're not here to go sight-seeing. We came to find-"

"Ichigo," the redhead interjected, "I know, I know. It's not like I could forget with you mumbling to yourself the whole way here. It was driving me nuts," he muttered the last part in hushed tones so that Rukia would not hear. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, "So, where should we start looking for the trouble-maker?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe just pick a random direction, cross our fingers, and hope that Ichigo's that way," the petite noble sarcastically drawled. She reached up as far as her arm would stretch and smacked Renji on the back of the head. He yelped at the abrupt attack, ducking out of reach from his childhood friend. "Think things through for once! Ichigo is constantly releasing reiatsu, so, even with how large Hueco Mundo is, we should be able to track him down."

The short woman turned away, crossing her arms across her chest. "And stop trying to act all macho. You look like an idiot."

"I am not!" the sixth-division lieutenant pouted. He gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as his mouth pulled into a thin line, "Look, let's just find the stupid strawberry so we can go home. I'd rather not be here any longer than we have to."

A slight nod was the only acknowledgement he received from his partner. Without exchanging anymore words, they reached out in every direction with their senses, searching for any sign of life that could eventually lead them to their desired target. Trendles of their consciousness' grazed over the landscape, scouring for something besides continual desolation.

Minutes elapsed in tense silence as neither soldier found a trace of any living organisms, hollow or human alike. Rukia growled in annoyance and frustration. Why could they not find even the slightest fragment of reiatsu from a low-level hollow? It should not be as difficult as it was currently. They were in the infamous land of the hollows, so it would be expected to have found at least one nearby. But there was not a trace wherever they looked.

Rukia sighed and opened her eyes, previously closed from concentration. "Renji, I can't find any signs of life."

"Neither can I," he responded, "Something is definitely wrong. Last time we were here, there were hollows everywhere even if it was those annoying lizards."

A light hum was all Rukia gave as a reply. Her hand cupped her chin while the other held her elbow. "If we're going to find Ichigo, then-"

The words caught in her throat, haulting her mid-thought. Her red-headed partner mirrored her; eyes wide, mouth open partially, and sweat beginning to bead on each of their foreheads. The crushing reiatsu surrounding their forms was more powerful than even a captain's. It felt like a hollow at first, but after a moment longer, something felt… off. The reiatsu was like a hollow, but it seemed to have traces of something else intermixed. A familiar force scratched at their senses that should have been easy to discern. It was tainted and twisted so much that it was practically foreign; void of nearly everything that had given it identity before.

Tensely, a forceful gulp traveled through the strained muscles of Rukia's delicate neck. Her mouth opened hesitantly, chapped lips trying to form around the words caught on her tongue. However, she could not utter a single syllable. The short noble merely closed her mouth resolutely as determination harboured in her indigo eyes.

Without warning, the shinigami took off, leaving her tattooed companion gaping in the wake of her dust. Not waiting for him to catch up to her vanishing form, Rukia sped towards the location where the twisted reiatsu - wrong in every way imaginable - was the strongest. She ran as hard as she could, fearful of the terrible thoughts pounding in her mind. Renji soon joined her, keeping pace by her side with a matching look of worry.

The source of such astonishing power was further away than they had thought. The shinigami had been running for minutes, using shunpo occassionally, and had still not found their friend. It was increasingly frustrating that the reiatsu source kept bouncing around from one location to another, forcing the two to change direction whenever it occurred. It was more than irritating. When they thought they were getting close, the source would vanish and reappear just as quickly in a different direction.

The reiatsu changed locations again, causing the soldiers to slide to a hault. Rukia growled in anger, fists clenching tight in frustration before she took off running again. "Come on," she yelled furiously, "This is  _ridiculous._  Stay in one place!"

Renji's thoughts were on the same path. They had been at this for quite some time now and it was exhausting and infuriating to no end. They probably looked like chicken's with their heads cut off by how they were running around everywhere. He would have been embarrassed if someone else was around to see this spectacle.

Finally, a spot of bright color became visible ahead of them, a stark contrast to the dull, dark colored scenery they had been seeing for quite some time. Immediately upon seeing a possible sign of life, the black-garbed warriors hastily shunpoed closer before they lost sight of it, desperate to stop the chase.

As they steadily approached the being, it became clear that the now notably humanoid figure did not even move as they neared. It stood perfectly still as its bright hair swayed in the non-existence breeze. They came to a quick stop in one last flash of shunpo, leaving about ten feet in between them and the being they had been desperately searching for.

Rukia's eyes widened in surprise at what stood before them. Renji's response was the opposite of a slight narrowing of his eyes. Standing before them in his mangled garb, was Ichigo.

At least something that resembled the substitute.

The teenager was bare-chested with torn pant legs. His skin, wherever it was exposed, was an unhealthy, pale white that bordered on albinism. Gray tribal markings branched out from the center of his chest, darker at the center and becoming lighter as the marks traveled towards his shoulders, spiraling down his arms and legs in fading, graceful lines. His hands and feet ended in gray-colored claws coming to a slight point on each digit. His strikingly orange, straight hair came down slightly past his shoulders when not swaying around his face. Blackened eyes looked at them filled with dim, unreflecting gold. The worst part, by far, about his appearance was the fact that he was covered with thick layers of blood, both old and new. It was firmly caked to his skin like a plaster, small pieces flaking off occasionally. The thick liquid was smeared over his face as well, giving the teen a feral look. Velvet droplets fell from his fingertips, soaked up by the parched sand.

A full minute passed by with not a single word being said as the two shinigami attempted to gain their bearings and process the sight before them. No one moved. Overwhelming, oppressive silence overtook the surroundings, leaving heavy weights on the warriors' shoulders.

Rukia tentatively parted her lips, taking a shaky breath. She tried to form her dry mouth around her words with crippling difficulty, only managing to utter audible words after many failed attempts, "I...Ichigo?" She hoarsely whispered barely loud enough for even Renji to hear her. The noble swallowed thickly, licking her lips and beginning again with a louder voice, "Ichigo, is that  _really_  you?"

The twisted creature before them did not make a move. With soulless, unblinking eyes he continued to stare blankly at the people before him. Only the slight irregular rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he truly was alive.

"Oh god," Rukia muttered, eyes growing wider in disbelief, "What happened to you? H-how did this… I…" She searched his opaque face for a response or answer of any kind. Her eyes flittered across his features, pleading for something - anything at all.

Time ticked on with not even a twitch of the vizard's muscles.

Rukia released a sigh of frustration, her gaze falling to the white sand and the small specks of red intermixed. She distantly watched as they drifted about on the top layer of earth, breaking into smaller pieces before dissipating completely. It was hardly a distraction from her turmoiling thoughts.

Her eyes hardened as she came to a decision. "Ichigo, please… come back with us to the Soul Society and we'll help you. We'll find a way to get you back to normal just…  _please_  come with us. It doesn't matter what happened or what you hollow has done. We'll get you the help you need." Her fists clenched and shook with anger, "And if the captains don't agree with aiding you, then we'll figure something else out. As long as we can get you the  _hell_  out of this place and somewhere safe, then I don't care who we have to cross!"

"Rukia…" Renji said cautiously, slightly taken aback by her brash words.

"No, I mean it Renji," she stated with finality, turning towards her companion, "Look at him. This is what they've forced him to become. We can't simply hand him back over to them if all they're going to do is make him even worse or  _kill him_ for all we know! We're his friends, Renji. We can't always sit by and follow orders. We have to help him just like he has done for us countless of times before and damn the consequences." She turned back around to fully face the creature the orange-headed teen had become, resolve set deep within her features. She took a confident step forward, only to be blocked by the arm of the sixth-division lieutenant.

The tattooed man could not help but feel a sense of danger radiating from the figure before them. For the entire time they had been near the substitute, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. And at the moment, approaching him did not seem like the best decision. However, the fierce glare he received upon his actions showed that his comrade did not feel the same way. The fire in her eyes prompted him to remove his arm from her path, despite his instincts screaming at him not to. But, he knew that there would be no convincing her otherwise when she had her mind set on something such as this.

The young noble stalked forwards with conviction. "Ichigo," she said, reaching out to him with an open hand, "Come with us," she now stood nearly five feet away from the teen, "Please…"

Her quick reflexes honed by years of combat saved her from the eobony blade aimed at her neck.

Rukia jumped back further, out of range from her assailant. Stepping back by Renji's side, she took a hesitantly defensive stance nearly mirroring her partner who had already drawn his sword. The previously unmoving form of the vizard slowly began to move forward, placing one clawed foot in front of the other as a dark shadow covered his pale face, accenting the newly formed gleam festering in his eyes. Not wishing to come within range of his swing, the two shinigami backpedaled away from the creature they faced.

"What are you doing?" Rukia questioned, her own sword now drawn, "It's us, your friends, so stop this at once!"

Her words fell on deaf ears as Ichigo gave no indication of hearing her. After a few more steps, his lips twitched upwards into a smile that soon broke out into a full grin, revealing white, red stained, feral teeth sharper than should be natural. A low laughter bubbled past his lips with increasing volume, quickly becoming maniacal. It gradually dimmed to low chuckles before the teen took in a long breath, "Kill…" he spoke gruffly, "Kill… Kill… Kill. Kill.  _Kill!_ " Ichigo repeated with every step in increasing volume, speeding his approach towards his next meal that would fill the empty, burning ache plaguing him.

"Please Ichigo, stop!" Rukia continued to plead.

"It's no use, Rukia, he's not going to listen to reason!" Renji yelled, "Not while he's in this state."

With a burst of power, the hollow that was once their faithful comrade disappeared in a static burst only to reappear a fraction of a second later inches away. The shinigami tried to move, but found themselves paralyzed by the suppressing force of the reiatsu from their close friend pressing down on them from all sides. Grinning madly, Ichigo raised his sword above his head, cackling with glee.

" _Ichigo!"_


	6. The Killing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank JustASlowReader for reminding me to post the last chapter of this. I don't know why I forgot to post it for so long, but here ya go!

 

X-X-X-X-X

_"In films murders are always very clean. I show how difficult it is and what a messy thing it is to kill a man."_

_\- Alfred Hitchcock_

X-X-X-X-X

_"Ichigo!"_

The ebony blade descended on its targets in a blur almost too fast to see. Ichigo’s opponents were able to jump in opposite directions to avoid the deadly strike, allowing the sword to crash into the sand unhindered. A thick cloud rose into the stagnant air, concealing Ichigo in the thick veil. It took only a few tense seconds for him to burst from the covering and aim his attention at Rukia.  

Claws outstretched, Ichigo slashed at Rukia while cackling madly with glee. His lips stretched in an unnatural grin even as his strikes were consistently blocked. A particularly strong strike knocked her slightly off balance, allowing him to catch her off guard with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. She landed hard on the ground, breath knocked from her lungs as her opponent loomed over her.

"Hoeru, Zabimaru!" Renji’s call could barely be heard above the persisting laughter. The clang of clashing steel soon followed as the substitute's and lieutenant's swords met with a rain of sparks.

With blades locked, each struggled to gain the upper hand against the other. They were close enough to each other for Renji to get a clear view of Ichigo’s blood-stained features. The smile splitting his face twitched at the edges, cracking the dried blood remaining on his face. As Renji looked into his hollowfied eyes, he saw only emptiness encasing the unreflective golden spheres that normally held so much life.

Renji shifted his weight and was able to slide his segmented zanpakuto under Ichigo's, slashing at his exposed abdomen. The tip nearly grazed his skin, but the teen managed to execute a quick sonido to evade the attack. He landed behind Renji already in motion to attack, but the static sound that accompanied every sonido had alerted the lieutenant of his position. He twisted around to parry the strike and block the next. The two jumped back from each other, preparing their next attacks.

A wave of freezing air and snow rapidly cascaded towards Ichigo, approaching quickly from behind so that he had no time to react. The wall of white washed over him, cutting off the growl that had begun to form in his throat. As the white cloud dissipated, Ichigo's frozen form was revealed surrounded by feet of thick, jagged ice.

The Shinigami breathed in relief at the sight, panting from their quick brawl. They starred apprehensively at the frozen figure of their friend. It was off-putting to see him stuck in a state of such monstrosity and anger; twisted and _wrong_.

A loud crack pierced the otherwise silent air with many more quickly succeeding it. Both soldiers flinched back at the sharp noises, instinctively dropping into battle-ready stances. Seconds later, the ice completely shattered and exploded outwards. Its former prisoner let out a feral growl as he shook his body free of the larger chunks of ice still clinging to his skin. The grin that constantly adorned his face had disappeared, leaving his features to contort into a fierce snarl. The gray markings on his exposed chest began to noticeably darken, continuing their crawl across his torso like snakes.

Black reiatsu seeped from his body as he raised his sword. A heartbeat later and he was in the air above the Shinigami, a getsuga coating his blade's edge. The attack was released the next second without a word, crashing into the bleached sand at their feet.

Rukia and Renji narrowly dodged the attack, managing to jump out of the way before the deadly energy struck. However, they found that there was nothing for them to land on as they descended. All that remained of where they previously stood was empty air.

They hastily worked to solidify reiatsu beneath their feet in their fall, but neither noticed when a second silent getsuga was thrown towards them through the dust. The attack slammed into them, forcing the two further into the hole below. They were dragged down to the bottom, their bodies crashing into the hard ground.

Ichigo stood stoically in the air above the opening they fell through. His face was schooled blank, head tilted down for menacing shadows to wrap across his contours. He watched silently as his prey hastily tried regained their bearings, picking themselves up from where they landed. They quickly took in their surroundings, coming to the realization of where they were forcefully thrown.

The Forest of Menos.

Enormous crystallized trees towered above them, stretching their lengths into the ceiling of hardened sand shrouding the expansive forest. Surrounding them was empty blackness that extended endlessly on all sides. The sounds of hollows howling echoed in the distance, creating a ghoulish symphony of noise.

Ichigo launched himself from his invisible perch and sped down towards his opponents. He used nearby branches to propel himself faster, destroying each in a shattering burst of splinters and dust. Within seconds he reached the ground, sending a small tremor through the earth when he landed. Both Shinigami had regained their footing and managed to jump out of the way in time. They separated and took to the safety of the trees to hide from the substitute.

Rukia’s breath was quiet and steady from behind one of the giant trunks. Her sword was grasped firmly in both hands and held in front of her at the ready. Although her eyes were fixed on the eternal black void in front of her, her focus was directed at the writhing mass of Ichigo's twisted reiatsu. At the moment, she could tell that he was in the same spot as when he first landed. Waiting; unmoving.

Then he was right behind her.

Rukia managed to swiftly duck as a fist coated in red and black burst through the trunk of the tree centimeters away from the space her head had been. She quickly rolled to her feet, orienting herself to face where the attack had come from with zanpakuto at the ready. The fist retracted and in a blur of motion Ichigo came speeding around the trunk. The sadistic - _wrong so wrong_ \- smile was once again unnaturally pulled across his lips as black and white blades danced.

Blow after blow rained down upon Rukia as she struggled to keep from being skewered. Each strike had immense amounts of strength that she strained to block. The hilt of her sword was nearly ripped out of her hands more than once due to the force of the blows.

Deflecting another strike that wrenched painfully at her shoulder, Rukia saw her opening and raised her hand towards Ichigo. Blue fire gathered in her opened palm and blasted towards him, engulfing his body in the azure flames. He stepped back a few paces from surprise, allowing Rukia to use this opportunity to hastily shunpo to a nearby branch for some much needed distance.

The moment she landed, Renji flashed onto the scene and immediately engaged Ichigo. With flames still licking his skin, Ichigo eagerly met Renji's strikes. Each fought with vigor, Renji to protect and Ichigo for entertainment. With Ichigo's enhanced strength and speed, Renji was easily being overpowered. Ichigo also seemed to be getting stronger with each passing moment, proving to be more difficult of an opponent than when they first crossed swords in the beginning of the fight.

With a whip of air, Rukia came swinging at Ichigo's side when he locked blades again with Renji. Her sword was stopped before it met flesh as one of Ichigo's hands shot out and grabbed the blade, not reacting when the edge bit into his palm. Both Shinigami let shock leak into their features while Ichigo smirked in response. His skin, now nearly completely alabaster white, barely contrasted with the ice slowly crawling up his hand and arm.

In one swift motion, Ichigo kicked Renji in the abdomen, causing him to crash into a crystallized trunk. His body crumpled against the fractured stone and landed heavily on a large branch.

Turning back to his other prey, the hollow gave a harsh yank on her sword to bring her closer. His own weapon moved in a sudden blur of onyx and embedded itself in her shoulder. Crimson gleamed on the metal and ran in steady rivets down Rukia's back, slowly soaking into her torn uniform.

Rukia yelled from the searing pain and desperately clawed at the zanpakuto where it met with her maimed flesh. She tugged at the weapon, but it did not budge from its position. Its wielder decided to slowly twist the blade, ripping the delicate strands of muscle and crunching bone.

Rukia could not suppress the strangled scream that worked its way from her throat. Her hand continued to claw at Ichigo's weapon mangling her shoulder with renewed vigor. Her other hand was still stubbornly clinging to her own sword's hilt, unwilling to let go of her only means of defense even if it was currently useless in the teen’s grip. As Ichigo stopped twisting his weapon, Rukia was able to crack her eyes open – _she had she closed them?_ \- and looked at the blood-stained face of her friend. He cackled lightly at her pained expression.

"Kill," he began to mutter again with a light flutter of giggles, "Kill. Kill. Kill!" Ichigo began to slowly, meticulously pull his blade out of his victim's shoulder, savoring the agony he was causing her. His sword was nearly completely removed when Rukia made her move.

She quickly thrusted her free hand, previously clawing at his blade, out until it pressed against the substitute's bare, marked chest. "Hado thirty-three, Sokatsui!" she strongly commanded. Instantly, blue lightning erupted from her hand, arching through Ichigo's form in glowing, jagged bolts. Rukia then brought her feet up and kicked Ichigo in the chest, forcing his seizing form back. His sword fell with his smoldering body and was torn from Rukia's shoulder. She grunted from the force, but managed a small backflip from her momentum before steadying herself in the air, watching Ichigo's convulsing body limply fall to the forest floor.

Before he hit the ground, he vanished with a resounding boom and reappeared standing on the sand. The extensive burn he had received from her attack was already rapidly healing. Muscles reformed and scorched, blackened skin healed with a piercing hiss. Within seconds he had healed completely without a mark from his wounds.

After witnessing this miraculous act, Rukia hastily shunpoed to her injured comrade. Renji had managed to shakily get to his feet with one hand tenderly pressed to his side.

"He's got one hell of a kick," Renji wheezed, "Broke a few of my ribs." His breath hitched and he started to cough harshly, a small stream of blood dribbling from his lips. "It feels like something got punctured."

Rukia kept her attention almost solely focused on Ichigo. He starred right back at her, unmoving and unnaturally still. "He got me pretty good too," Rukia softly spoke. Her hand firmly pressed down on her wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood. Her sword shook in her grip as her entire arm trembled from the pain. "It's going to be difficult to use this arm now," she ground out with a wince.

Ichigo was becoming impatient. He had given his prey more than enough time to deliberate and plan so that his hunt would be more fun. But they were taking too long for his liking. The hunger was angrily boiling inside him, demanding to be sated. It had started near the beginning of the fight, steadily increasing as the battle _– if it could be called that_ – progressed. But at the moment he was enjoying playing with his food; tormenting them; watching them squirm; giving them the glimmer of hope that they could win. It was pathetic.

Something was pushing at the back of his mind. He was able to ignore it when it appeared during the beginning of the fight and continue with his fun uninterrupted. But it was steadily getting stronger; more painful to the point where it felt like his head would split open from the intense pressure. He raised a shaky hand to his face when his vision suddenly swam in dizzying swirls. Then the pain spiked.

The warriors snapped their full attention to Ichigo when he unexpectedly hunched over himself with a sharp cry. A white substance oozed from his mouth and one of his eyes, seeping across his face and forming the shape of a mask as it hardened rapidly. He clawed frantically at the forming mask even as it continued to grow even with his struggles. A full bull-like horn formed on the left side of his head paired with a dark red stripe traveling down the side of his face. When the mask had molded itself roughly halfway around his head, his arms fell to his sides with his head bowed low to his chest.

Abruptly, sharp barks of laughter erupted from his mouth, the corners curving up in a horrifying grin. He whipped his head up to look at the two Shinigami watching him tensely. His eyes held a crazed glint that sent sharp chills down their backs.

**"Yer both so fuckin' pathetic!"** Ichigo yelled, his voice warbled and doubled over itself to make a strange echo. **"Are ya really so weak that ya can't even put up a half-assed fight with him?"** Another series of cackles bubbled across his lips. **"He was just playin' with ya too, and he still beat the shit outa ya easily."**

Renji and Rukia looked down at their friend in confusion. They continued to hold their defensive position in case Ichigo attacked unexpectedly.

Renji slowly leaned towards Rukia. "Why is he acting so different?" he quietly questioned, only loud enough for her to hear. Rukia shook her head mutely, eyes never straying from Ichigo's form.

**"Yer just like the pathetic excuse I have had to call _King,"_** he spat out the word with a sneer, **"Weak an' useless an' practically askin' ta be takin’ down from yer false high standing."** He pointed his black sword at them, still coated in Rukia's shimmering blood. **"When I kill ya both, it'll be the final straw I need to break _my_ _horse_ fer good."** He finalized the statement with a series of hysteric giggles.

"That’s his hollow in control right now," Rukia whispered, "I can't sense Ichigo's reiatsu at all anymore." She had previously been able to feel traces of it, albeit twisted and wrong. Now there was nothing resembling what it used to be. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her zanpakuto tighter in anger.

Rukia took a confident step forward, nearly teetering on the edge of the narrow branch. "Why?" she questioned.

The hollow's face scrunched up in confusion, **"Huh? What are you yappin' about?"**

Rukia ground her teeth in anger. "I said, _why?_ Why are you so insistent on taking control and torturing Ichigo like this?"

**"That's a stupid question,"** the hollow stated. Rukia seethed.

"Enlighten us then."

**"Is it really so hard ta figure out? I'm a hollow. End of story."** He rested his sword lazily on his shoulder and placed a hand on his cocked hip. **"I'm a creature born of instinct an' hate. I refuse to be ruled by someone that is far weaker than me. It's like a lion servin' a mouse. It makes no sense. That's why I'm overthrowing my weak King, but I ain't gonna let him off so easy. He needs ta be _punished._ "**

"That's it? That's your justified reason? _Revenge._ Pitiful _revenge?!_ " Rukia hissed. "How dare you." She shunpoed in an instance to the space directly in front of the hollow. "Just give Ichigo back to us!"

A wave of ice and snow erupted from her bleached blade and cascaded towards the hollow. He flashed a sharp grin and released a small, potent getsuga that collided with the oncoming ice. His attack quickly overpowered her weaker one, causing a miniature explosion to stir the sand and push Rukia back from the force. She was thrown off her feet, rolling on her side until her back slammed into a solid trunk.

"Take this, you bastard!" Renji roared as his blade crashed into the hollow's side. He was knocked back a few feet from the blow before he sonidoed to stand directly in front of Renji without a mark. Moving faster than Renji could follow, the hollow grabbed the lieutenant's face in his hand. He threw him headfirst in the sand, creating an indent in the ground. Renji choked out a gasp as the air escaped his lungs. Specks of blood flew from his gaping mouth as he desperately tried to bring air back into his shocked lungs.

"Renji!" Rukia cried out. She hastily scrambled to her feet and ran back towards the pale monster. She had to abruptly halt in her tracks when the hollow pointed his blade at her, dripping in concentrated black reiatsu.

**"I can't believe that this is all the fight you two can manage,"** he lazily drawled. He placed one of his clawed feet on Renji's chest and pressed down. This earned a pained cry from his victim as his broken ribs violently protested the abuse as audible cracks sounded from his mangled rib cage. The hollow placed his other foot on top of Renji's wrist, preventing him from using his sword. **"Really though, it's a surprise that you've both survived fer this long."** He cackled again as he pushed down harder on his chest.

**"Oh well,"** he nonchalantly shrugged, **"At least ya gave me a little fun while ya lasted."** He pointed his hand at Rukia and bright red reiatsu began to gather in a swirling sphere near the tips of his fingers.

Rukia, having recognized the attack, prepared to dodge for when the deadly cero was released. She would not be able to block such a powerful attack in her current weakened state.

His smile twitched and suddenly fell, adapting an expression of shock. The hilt of his sword smashed into the masked side of his face, cracking the porcelain material. Thin lines spidered away from the impact site as small pieces of the white bone mask fell. The pale skin beneath was exposed with the majority of the mask stubbornly clinging to the youth's face. The chaotic orb of energy in his grip slowly faded until it completely dissipated into nothing.

He stumbled back with staggering steps, releasing his captive under his feet. Both hands flew to his head and began to frantically claw at the jagged sides and cracks, desperate to find purchase. He doubled over, tremors wracking his body as he yelled in anger and pain.

Rukia shuffled nervously on her feet, concerned but wary of the beast that had taken possession of Ichigo's body. Renji rolled to his hands and knees, breathing short and clipped, before rising to his feet unsteadily and standing by Rukia's side.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked softly. She tried to move closer to his shuddering form, but a firm hand on her uninjured shoulder stopped her. She looked back and locked eyes with Renji.

"Rukia," he said, "You can't. He's still not himself. We don’t know what his hollow might be planning or if it's even him right now."

She placed her hand on his, wincing as the motion pulled at her wound. Her eyes were stern and unmoving, but held a softness of understanding. "That's still Ichigo in there. Just let me try. He's fighting and this may be the only chance we get to talk to him and help him beat this." She stepped away, Renji's hand falling off her shoulder, and moved towards Ichigo with an unwavering stride.

"Ichi-" she cut off as the tip of the black sword nearly sliced through her neck. She barely avoided having her throat torn open as the tip grazed her skin, leaving a thin trail of blood streaming down to her collarbone.

Renji was instantly by her side, defending against Ichigo and each sloppy slash he made. His attacks were uncoordinated and haphazard, but held just as much power as before. He continued to hold on to the side of his face with his expression a mix between hysteria and agony.

Rukia quickly rejoined the fray. Swords met in a dancing blur, sparks leaping off their blades into the reiatsu saturated air. "Fight him Ichigo!" the stubborn lieutenant chastised as the teen stumbled back with a distressful cry. Even with him being so unfocused on his opponents, they could not land a single blow.

Ichigo continued to blindly lash out at his comrades before he abruptly stopped dead in his attack. His already powerful reiatsu spiked to an absurd level, catching the Shinigami off guard as they froze in their tracks. The substitute leaned back, gripping his head in a strong vice and _screamed_. His voice warbled and twisted, sounding more similar to a howl from a tortured animal. He staggered backwards before hunching over, breathing harsh and labored.

He appeared beside Renji before either he or Rukia could react, both still heavily weighed down by Ichigo's reiatsu. Renji brought his weapon up just in time to deflect Ichigo's strike from cutting him in half. The force behind the attack was enough to push him entirely off his feet, sending him flying through the air. Ichigo turned his attention to Rukia and raised his sword to strike. She was better prepared for the attack and managed to brace herself when his blade met hers. She visibly struggled against his ebony sword, muscles trembling with the strain. He slowly inched closer, orange locks falling over his shoulders to frame his demonically bloodied features, stopping inches away from her petrified face.

"Plea...se," he pleaded, voice cracking with a soft echo, "K-kill me."

Fear ran cold through her veins as Rukia's mind tried to process his words. Her grip d slackened just enough for Ichigo to push her blade down. His hand shot out and wrapped around her neck, immediately cutting off her airflow as his fingers pressed tightly into her trachea. Her feet merely grazed the ground as he began to lift her up higher and higher. His eyes were filled with desperation and terror as Rukia's struggles slowly died.

His head suddenly snapped to the side right before the head of a giant bone-like snake crashed into him. He released Rukia's abused throat and her body limply fell on the ground. On her hands and knees she choked and gasped for breath, fingers massaging her tender neck. Once she could breathe normally, she turned towards the fight to see Renji garbed in his bankai attire with his weapon coiling around his body. She had not even heard when he had shifted to that state in her oxygen-deprived haze.

Ichigo’s words echoed in her head and she felt anger bubble in her chest, hot and heavy. How _dare_ that hollow reduce him to such a shell of himself to drive him to ask for such measures. She picked herself off the sandy floor, fists clenched and knuckles paling to white.

Renji continued to try to hold Ichigo back, which was proving to be exceedingly difficult as his attacks became increasingly unpredictable and his strength kept rising steadily. Ichigo easily deflected another attack from the snake-like bankai and directed a potent getsuga at the weapon’s head. The attack crashed into its side and it slammed into a tree.

"Kill me," Ichigo begged, "Kill me, please!" His cries were getting more desperate than they were before. He could feel the aching void in his stomach demanding to be stated with more ferocity. His hollow was pounding against the feeble barrier he had managed to throw up after regaining some semblance of awareness. But he was so close to breaking through and taking control again. His hollow’s haunting laughter echoing in the forefront of his mind proved how much enjoyment he was getting by watching him struggle.

He did not want to keep fighting and grappling for control of his own body and mind. He did not want to kill his friends and feed on their lifeless corpses to only temporarily quell his insatiable instincts. He just wanted it all to end.

"No!" Renji yelled in protest to his pleas, "We will _not_ kill you Ichigo!" He grunted as his bankai was easily swat aside. The momentum yanked on his hand grasping the hilt, tearing painfully at his shoulder.

"There has to be another way!" Rukia insisted, "Just let us help you!"

_"Please!"_ Ichigo begged, eyes wide and filled with terror.

"No!" they both repeated with finality.

As the fight continued, it became obvious who had the upper hand. Both soldiers struggled to keep up. With the ever increasing attacks of their friend, it was becoming harder to deflect each blow. The pleas continued to tumble from Ichigo's mouth without any change.

Dodging large shards of ice, Ichigo turned towards Renji's looming bankai as it charged a ball of dark red energy in its open maw. Renji commanded the attack moments before his weapon released the blast with a mighty roar.

Ichigo rounded his back and lowered his head with a choppy growl. His horns, now both fully formed, pointed towards the fast-approaching attack. A small cero rapidly gathered between his horns and released in a similar manner to the oncoming blast.

Red met red and a burst of sound tore through the air. One attack overpowered the other and rocketed towards the beastly weapon. It met its target and in a deafening explosion and destroyed its bony body. Thin splinters rained down in spirals that peppered the sand in a thin blanket.

Renji was left stunned and weaponless, unable to defend himself. Ichigo launched himself through the air at a dizzying speed towards his victim with his arm cocked back, red energy coating his closed fist. Not having any time to dodge, the lieutenant was only able to bring his arms up in a feeble attempt of a shield.

The bala met its mark with a sharp crack of bone. Renji's body was sent careening in a downward arch, hitting a hardened trunk. His eyes rolled back in his head before he fell to the ground. He laid there in a heap; unmoving. Blood seeped from his mouth and a wound somewhere on his head hidden by his hair, forming a small puddle on the sand.

Ichigo slowly turned his gaze to the startled noble. His body language was entirely predatorial, but his eyes revealed his panic and fear. He took controlled, meticulous steps through the air towards her, black reiatsu seeping from his form and a growl rumbling in his chest. None of his actions were under his control anymore. His hollow had taken all of that from him. He could not even plead for the release of death, but only watch as he fought to kill friends.

Rukia backpedaled as she racked her mind to somehow stop Ichigo, but could not think of anything. Her previous attempts at attacking did not have any effect, which left her with no options. And now that Renji had been taken out of the fight, it left her chances of finding some way out of this situation dwindling by the second.

She landed lightly on a branch as Ichigo stalked forward, his feet hovering above the petrified bark. Rukia continued to back up with her sword held defensively in front of her. She flinched when her shoulders bumped against the trunk and glanced to her sides. Two large branches sprouted from each side, both wider than she was tall. A quick look above resulted in another broad branch, jamming her in a corner.

She was trapped.

Ichigo’s haunting growl sent a chill through her blood. His limbs had begun to twitch sporadically; body moving discorrdinately as Ichigo continued forwards. He desperately kept trying to fight for his mind. He clawed for the control that was always out of his reach while his body moved and jerked against his will.

He pounced. Clawed hands stretched out ready to pierce and maim her soft flesh. His forgotten sword was still held tightly in his grip, forgotten and practically useless to him now.

Rukia panicked.

The sound of ripping flesh filled the air. Rukia’s eyes widened, starring ahead sightlessly. She could not – _would not this could not be real_ – comprehend what she was seeing. Ichigo’s shaking claws were only a few inches from her throat. His face was frozen, no emotion present; blank. Embedded in his chest through his heart was her white blade, frosting the wound with a thin sheet of ice. The pristine metal was rapidly stained crimson as blood streamed from the gash, tainting it. It ran down to the hilt of the sword and steadily dripped onto her stiff hands.

Ichigo’s pale body tipped to the side. The action added enough pressure to let the blade tear further through his chest, sliding between his ribs with little resistance. It tore from his side with a splatter of gore that added a bright splash of red to the dull tree.

Ichigo fell from the branch and landed on the ground with a dull thud. Rukia watched blankly, mouth agape and gasping for words. Images of Kaien flashed before her eyes; his lifeless corpse impaled on her sword nearly identical to how she attacked Ichigo.

It was all happening again. One of her most trusted friends and allies was dying by her hand.

She blinked away her haze and scrambled from the branch in a fit of flailing limbs, rushing down to where his body fell with a desperate shunpo. Dropping to her knees, Rukia delicately grasped his hand, making it shake with her own. He laid on his stomach, golden eyes fading to his original soft brown. The menacing mask crumpled away, dissipating into the air in large clumps. The gaping wound poured blood, greedily dunk by the parched sand. His breath was short and shallow, chest wheezing in small gulps of air with extreme difficulty.

Rukia gazed into his clouded eyes and was surprised to see Ichigo smiling softly back at her. It was not the sadistic, deranged smile that he had worn while fighting, but one that was _Ichigo_ ; full of compassion and understanding. There was no hint of hate or insanity or pain. Just pure happiness.

Gripping his limp hand tighter, Rukia starred back into his captivating eyes. “No, no, no, no,” the words tumbled out of her mouth like a skipping record, “You can’t do this to me Ichigo. You _can’t_.” Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill with every blink. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

She shook her head, hair whipping across her face, “No, no, you can’t leave us behind. You can’t leave your family behind. What about Karin and Yuzu? They need their big brother. _You_ need to be there for them. Watch them grow up. Take care of them.”

The hand in her grasp lightly squeezed her fingers, halting her rambles. She refocused on his face and saw the tears streaming down his pale cheeks. He sucked in a sharp, gurgling breath and whispered in a hoarse, barely audible voice, “Thank you.” His eyes slowly slipped shut. One last rasping exhale from his lungs and his chest stilled.

Rukia’s tears spilled down her face. She shuffled closer to his body, wrapping her arms around his blood-soaked form. She cradled his body close and buried her head in his matted orange hair. She silently sobbed while she clung to her friend’s cold, dead corpse.

_ End.  _


End file.
